lERKILlY 

.IBRARY 

JNIVBRSITY  Of 
CALIFORNIA 


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THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN 


A  COMEDY  IN  FOUR  ACTS 


BY 

JAMES  FORBES 


Copyright,  1908,  by  JAMES  FORBES 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 

CAUTION. — All  persons  are  hereby  warned  that  "The 
Traveling  Salesman,"  being  fully  protected  under  the 
copyright  laws  of  the  United  States,  is  subject  to 
royalty,  and  anyone  presenting  the  play  without  the 
consent  of  the  owner  or  his  authorized  agents  will 
be  liable  to  the  penalties  by  law  provided.  Application 
for  amateur  rights  must  be  made  to  Samuel  French, 
28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York.  Application  for 
the  professional  rights  must  be  made  to  the  American 
Play  Company,  33  West  42nd  Street,  New  York. 


new    YORK 

SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30  WEST   38TH   ST. 


LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd. 

26    SOUTHAMPTON    STREET 

STRAND 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of  this 
book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first  having 
been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right  or  Hcense 
to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play  publicly  or 
in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance  of  it  may  be  given  except 
by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel  French,  28-30  West  3Sth 
Street,  New  York. 

Section  28— That  any  person  who  wilfully  or  for  profit 
shall  infringe  any  copyright  secured  by  this  act,  or  who  shall 
kno-ningly  and  wilfully  aid  or  abet  such  infringement  shall 
be  deemed  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction 
thereof  shall  be  punished  by  imprisonment  for  not  exceeding 
one  year,  or  by  a  fine  of  not  less  than  one  hundred  nor  more 
than  one  thousand  dollars,  or  both;  in  the  discretion  of  the 
court. 

Act  of  March  4,  1909, 


F 


F^i3 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 


Produced   at  the   Liberty  Theatre,   New   York^ 
August  lo,  1908. 

NOTE: — The  characters  arranged  in  the  order  in 
which  they  first  speak. 

Mrs.  Babbit Sarah  McVicker 

Mrs.  William  Henry  Dawson.  .  .Maud  B.  Sinclair 

Bill  Crabb R.  C.  Turner 

William  Henry  Dawson Edivard  Ellis 

LuELLA  Ann  Dawson  ....  France.?  Golden  Fuller 

William  Henry  Dawson,  Jr Martin  Fuller 

Perce  Gill Edward  M.  Dresser 

Beth  Elliott Gertrude  Coghlan 

Franklin  Royce Percival  T.  Moore 

Martin  Drury William  Beach 

A  Conductor /.  Lowenthal 

Bob  Blake. Frank  Mclntyre 

Ted  Watts Arthur  Shaw 

Julius H.  D.  Blakemore 

John  Kimball Edzvard  Ellis 

Ben  Cobb Nicholas  Burnham 


SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES. 

Act      I.  The  Depot  at  Grand  Crossing,  Christ- 
mas Day. 

Act    II.  Blake's    rooms    at    the    EHte    Hotel. 
Christmas  Night. 

Act  III.  Office    of    Franklin    Royce.      Two 
o'clock  of  the  next  day. 

Act  IV.  Same  as  Act  II.    One  hour  later. 
3 


252 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN 


ACT  I. 

Scene: — The  depot  at  Grand  Crossing. 

Time: — Christmas  Day. 

It  is  the  typical  ivaiting-room  of  a  village 
depot.  The  whitewashed  walls  are  discolored 
by  time  and  smoke.  The  woodwork  is  painted 
a  dingy  brown.  At  center  back  the  ticket-office 
projects  onto  the  stage.  The  window  of  the 
office  is  practical  and  on  it  are  the  letters 
"  Ticket  Windozv  ".  There  is  a  shelf  in  front 
of  the  window  and  zvhen  the  zvindoiv  is  raised 
there  can  be  seen  another  shelf  on  the  inside 
of  the  office.  Beneath  this  shelf  is  a  money 
drazver.  On  the  shelf  at  right  is  a  rack  filled 
with  railroad  tickets.  On  the  shelf  left  a  ticket 
stamp,  a  telegraph  blank-book  with  pencil  at- 
tached to  it  by  string,  and  an  express  book. 
At  the  rear  of  the  ticket-office  is  a  window, 
underneath  it  a  shelf  on  zvhich  stands  the  tele- 
graph instrument.  In  this  zmndozv  hangs  a 
zvreath  of  holly  with  red  ribbon  bozu.  On  the 
right-  sash  of  this  zvindow  is  a  small  mirror. 
"  Beth's  "  hat  and  coat  are  hanging  on  a  hook 
on  the  right  wall  inside  the  ticket-office. 

In  the  fiat  at  r.  and  l.  of  the  ticket-office  are 

doors,   the   upper   halves  of   them  painted  to 

represent  glass.    On  the  outside  of  the  glass  are 

the  words  "  Waiting  Room  ".    At  l.  of  the  door 

5 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

in  the  back  flat  and  at  l.  2  e.  are  large  wmdows. 
All  the  zvindozi'S  in  the  set  are  covered  with 
tracing  paper  to  suggest  heavy  frost  and  to 
screen  the  supposed  arrival  and  departure  of 
trains.  The  hack  drop  shozvs  a  snow-covered 
landscape  zvith  telegraph  poles  and  zvires.  The 
ground  cloth  is  painted  in  imitation  of  a  railroad 
platform  and  two  lines  of  railroad  tracks.  At 
R.  I  E.  is  a  door  to  the  baggage  room,  the  upper 
half  of  the  glass  zvith  the  lettering  "  Baggage 
Room  ". 

At  L.  of  center  and  at  r.  of  center  are  zvooden 
benches  in  pairs  placed  hack  to  hack  and  like 
those  that  surround  the  room  are  divided  by 
iron  arms  into  three  seats.  Above  the  benches 
at  R.  of  c.  about  r.  2  e.  is  a  rusted  iron  stove 
with  practical  door  and  fire  effect.  The  stove- 
pipe leads  off-stage  r.  through  the  wall  of  the 
set.  On  the  upstage  side  of  the  stove,  stands 
a  scuttle  of  coal  with  shovel  and  poker.  Above 
the  door,  at  r.  i  e.  stands  a  penny-in-the-slot 
zveighing  machine.  On  the  wall  belozv  this  door 
is  a  penny-in-the-slot  gum  machine  and  another 
of  a  similar  character  stands  on  the  shelf  left  of 
ticket  zvindozu.  l.  of  the  door  r.  in  back  flat  is 
a  zvater  cooler  zvith  tin  cup.  On  the  r.  wall 
of  the  ticket-office  is  a  blackboard  announcing 
the  arrival  of  trains.  Below  the  blackboard  is 
suspended  a  fire  axe.  On  the  shelf  of  the  ticket- 
office  R.  is  a  rack  zvith  time  tables.  Tzvo 
fire  pails  stand  on  shelves  at  the  upper  angles 
of  the  set.  On  the  wall  over  the  zvindozv 
L.  2  e.  is  a  large  clock  and  on  the  zvall 
above  the  zvindow  hangs  a  large  railroad  map. 
On  the  zvall  belozv  the  zvindozv  is  an  Express 
Company  sign.  Under  the  shelf  of  the  ticket 
zvindozv  is  a  Money  Order  sign.  Over  this 
windozv  a  "  No  Smoking  "  sign,  and  affixed  to 
the  right  face  of  this  window  is  a  "  Tax  Sale  " 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  7 

notice.  On  the  r.  wall  back  of  the  stove  is  a 
"No  Loafing"  sign  and  over  the  door  to  the 
Baggage  Room  a  sign  reading  "Baggage 
Checked  15  Minutes  Before  Train  Time." 

Before  the  rise  of  the  curtain  is  heard  the 
noise  of  a  departing  train. 

As  curtain  rises,  through  the  closed  windozu 
of  the  ticket-office  can  be  heard  the  sound  of 
the  telegraph  instrument. 

DISCOVERED :— Mrs.  Babbit  seated  on  the  ex- 
treme edge  of  the  bench  r.  c.  Beside  her  a 
handbag,  a  valise  and  several  bundles.  Her 
attitude  denotes  extreme  nervous  tension.  She 
looks  anxiously  at  the  clock.  Enter  Mrs. 
Dawson,  Luella  Ann  Dawson  and  William 
Henry  Dawson,  Jr.  At  the  sound  of  the  clos- 
ing door,  Mrs.  Babbit  turns  quickly. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Did  you  see  a  train  coming? 

Mrs.  Dawson.  No'm.  (Mrs.  Dawson  and 
William  Henry  cross  to  bench  at  l.  Mrs.  Dawson 
sits.  Luella  Ann  stands  c,  staring  at  Mrs.  Babbit. 
Mrs.  Dawson  sees  her)  Luella  Ann,  what  you 
gawpin' at.  Come  over  here  and  sit  down.  (Luella 
Ann  crosses  back  of  bench  l.  sits  left  end  of  bench. 
Mrs.  Dawson  is  unzvinding  William  Henry's 
scarf.  William  Henry  zvhispers  to  her)  Ain't  I 
ever  goin'  to  have  a  minit's  peace  ?  Whatcha  want  ? 
(William  Henry  zvhispers  again)  Another  drink  ! 
You  children's  regular  sponges.  (Mrs.  Dawson 
takes  William  Henry  up  to  water  cooler  followed 
by  Luella  Ann,  who  stares  at  Mrs.  Babbit) 

{Enter  Bill  Crabb    door  l.  in  flat.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Say  Mr.  Crabb,  when's  the  train 
due? 

Crabb.  (c.)  What  train?  Think  I'm  a  mind 
reader  ? 


8  THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    (Rising)    Train  for  Bird-in-Hand ! 

Crabb.  (Crossing  Mrs.  Babbit  to  rJ  Bird-in- 
Hand?    'Leven  fifty-three. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    When's  it  due? 

Crabb.    Seven  minits  afore  twelve. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Ain't  you  the  cute  little  smart 
Aleck?  That  joke  was  old  when  my  grandfather 
wuz  alive. 

Crabb.  Your  ^ra«c?f ather  ?  Must  be  a  darned 
old  joke! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Jest  becuz  the  train  is  due  at  'leven 
fifty-three  ain't  no  sign  it'll  arrive  then,  on  your  old 
one-horse  railroad. 

Crabb.    It  ain't  my  railroad. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You  don't  say!  Why,  from  the 
airs  you  giv  yerself,  thought  you  wuz  its  president. 

Crabb.  Not  yit  I  Ef  I  wuz  I  wouldn't  allow  old 
wimmin  to  loaf  'round  the  depot  worry  in'  baggage 
men  to  death.  (Exits  r.  i  e.  Mrs.  Babbit  follows 
him  furiously) 

(Mrs.  Dawson  who  has  been  listening  to  the  discus- 
sion smiles  and  crosses  l.,  followed  by  the  chil- 
dren, to  back  of  bench  l.  Enter  William 
Henry  Dawson  carrying  a  crock  of  apple 
butter.    Mrs.  Babbit  turns  quickly.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Land  sakes,  that  the  'leven  fifty- 
three?  Oh,  good-morning',  Mr.  Dawson,  merry 
Christmas. 

Dawson.  Same  to  you  Mrs.  Babbit,  and  many 
of  'em.  (He  places  the  crock  on  the  bench  l.  c.) 
Maw,  keep  the  kids  out  o'  this  apple-butter.  (Mov- 
ing c.  towards  Mrs,  Babbit)  You  know  the  wife 
don't  you  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.    I  haven't  had  that  pleasure. 

Dawson.  No?  Wife,  I  thought  you  know'd 
Tom  Babbit's  widow. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  9 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance 
Mrs.  Dawson. 

Mrs.  Dawson,  (Coming  dozvn  l.  of  Dawson) 
Pleased  to  meet  you  Airs.  Babbit. 

Dawson.  You  folks  kin  chin  fer  awhile,  I've  got 
to  'rastle  that  trunk  off  that  sleigh.  (Dawson  starts 
to  exit  door  l.  in  flat.  The  cliildren  run  to  Dawson, 
crying:  "  I  want  to  go  with  Paw  ".) 

Dawson.    Here,  go  to  your  Maw. 

LuELLA  Ann.    No,  no! 

William  Henry.    No,  no ! 

(Dawson  exits,  Luella  Ann  and  William  Henry 
follow  him  lip  to  door.) 

Mrs.  Dawson.  William  Henry!  Lueller  Ann 
come  here  this  instant  minit ! 

{The  children  stamp  their  feet  and  cry.) 

Luella  Ann.    I  want  to  go  with  Paw. 

William  Henry.    I  want  to  go  with  Paw. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Rushing  up,  grabs  children, 
brings  them  c.)  Lueller  Ann  go  sit  down.  (She 
pushes  Luella  Ann  zuho  goes  over  to  l.  end  of 
bench)  William  Henry,  come  here.  Behave.  (She 
goes  over  sits  on  bench  l.,  William  Henry  stands 
R.  of  her.  Mrs.  Babbit  indicates  her  horror  of  the 
children's  actions.    A  slight  pause)    Lovely  weather  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Glad  it's  fine  for  Christmas. 

Luella  Ann.    Merry  Kistmas !    Merry  Kistmas ! 

Mrs.  Dawson.    Lueller  Ann  hesh  yer  mouth  ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Pointing  to  William  Henry) 
Is  this  the  baby? 

Luella  Ann.    Yes,  he's  the  baby. 

William  Henry.    (Furiously)    I  ain't  the  baby ! 

Luella  Ann.  (Crossing  towards  him)  You  are 
so! 

William   Henry.      (Approaching  Luella)     I 


10         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

ain't  not  a  baby.     I'll  slap  your  face. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Separating  them)  Luella  Ann, 
behave !  (William  Henry  goes  up  to  penny-in- 
the-slot  machine  at  l.  of  ticket  zvindozv.  Prods  at  it. 
Mrs.  Dawson  rises  takes  Luella  c.)  Shake  hands 
with  Mrs.  Babbit.  There's  a  nice  little  girl. 
(Luella  Ann  refuses)  Shake  hands  I  say,  or  I'll 
shake  you  good. 

Luella  Ann.  {Crossing  in  front  of  her  mother 
puts  out  her  hand  to  Mrs.  Babbit.  Mrs.  Babbit 
rises)     Hello. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Shaking  Luella's  hand)  How 
de  do,  Luella  Ann!  (To  ]\Irs.  Dawson)  Favors 
you  about  the  eyes.  She's  got  her  father's  nose  but 
she'll  outgrow  it. 

Lue'.la  xA-NN.  (In  bewildered  manner  to  Mrs. 
Dawson)  Maw,  what's  the  matter  with  paw's 
nose? 

Mrs.  Dawson.  I  never  noticed  nothin'  the  matter 
with  Mr.  Dawson's  nose.  It  may  be  a  trifle  large, 
but  he  keeps  it  out  of  other  folks  affairs.  Come 
here,  you.  (She  yanks  Luella  Ann  over  to  the 
bench.  They  sit.  Luella  Ann  l.  of  her.  William 
Henry,  Jr.,  comes  down  center  from  slot  macJiine) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  What's  your  name,  little  boy? 
(She  takes  his  hands  in  hers) 

(William  Henry  tries  to  kick  her.) 

William  Henry.    I  won't  tell  yer ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.    If  you  were  my  little  boy 

William  Henry.  (Interrupting)  I  ain't  your 
little  boy.  (Jerks  hands  azvay)  1  don't  want  to  be 
your  little  boy.     (Runs  to  Mrs.  Dawson) 

Luella  Ann.  (Rising)  Maw,  I  don't  like  her. 
(Sticks  out  her  tongue  at  Mrs.  Babbit.  William 
Henry  sees  this,  does  liketvise) 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Hesh !  I  say  hesh  up.  It's  tur- 
rible.    I  can't  do  nuthin'  with  'em. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         ii 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Ever  try  a  bed  slat?  (Enter 
Dawson  carrying  tin  trunk  on  Jiis  shoulder)  It's 
their  father's  fault,  their  father'U  be  the  ruination  of 
'em. 

Dawson.  That's  right.  Soak  it  to  me.  (He 
starts  to  baggage  room,  bumps  into  INIrs.  Babbit) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Might  as  well  kill  a  person  as 
scare  'em  to  death. 

Dawson.  Huh!  (Crosses  tozvard  door  into 
baggage  room) 

William  Henry.  (FoUozving  Dawson)  Paw! 
What's  the  matter  with  your  nose  ? 

LuELLA  Ann.  (Follozving  William  Henry) 
She — (Pointing  to  Mrs.  Babbit)  don't  like  your 
nose ! 

Dawson.    Well,  she  don't  have  to  live  with  it. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  No,  thank  my  lucky  stars! 
(Dawson,  Luella  Ann,  and  William  Henry  exit 
to  baggage  room.  Luella  sticks  her  tongue  out  at 
Mrs.  Babbit  as  she  goes) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Going  fer? 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Over  to  mother's.  It's  about  an 
hour's  ride.  We  always  go  over  every  Christmas. 
An'  occasionally  on  Thanksgiving  Day.  (Drazving 
herself  up  proudly)  Since  I've  married  I've  got  to 
be  quite  a  traveler.  (Pityingly)  You  don't  go 
round  much  do  yer? 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Thank  God  I  never  was  one  to  gad. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Yer're  livin'  at  the  Elite  Hotel  I 
b'lieve. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Don't  know  as  you'd  call  it  livin'. 
Cook- can't  boil  water  without  burnin'  it. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Too  bad  you  had  to  give  up  house- 
keepin',  sacrifice  yer  home. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Oh.  it  wasn't  such  a  sacrifice.  I 
kep'  boarders  fer  twelve  years.  (Crossing  to  Mrs. 
Dawson)  Then  help's  such  a  care  (Sarcastically) 
'Course  you  wouldn't  understand  you  don't  keep 


12         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Indignantly)  T'ain't  that  I 
couldn't  if  Dawson'd  sell  his  land. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Crossing  to  Mrs.  Dawson,  sitting 
R.  of  her)  Ain't  he  got  rid  of  that  Junction  prop- 
erty yet  ?    He's  as  stubborn  as  Beth  Elliott. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  I'm  no  hand  to  gossip,  but  they 
do  say  that  Franklin  Royce  that's  down  here  for 
Martin  Drury,  lookin'  after  Mrs.  Stratton's  store 
since  she  failed,  is  very  attentive  to  Beth.  Wonder 
if  that  won't  be  a  match  one  of  these  days.  (She 
giggles) 

AIrs.  Babbitt.  (Indignantly)  Nuthin'  in  it  at 
all. 

Mrs.  Dawson.     (Resentfully)    You  don't  say! 

Mrs.  Babbitt.  Well,  I'd  ought  to  know,  bein' 
Beth's  most  intimate  friend. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Inquisitively)  She's  workin' 
here  at  the  depot  ain't  she  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Yes,  jest  as  smart  as  a  steel  trap. 
You  ought  to  see  her  work  that  telegraph  thing, 
wonderful  technick.    Easy  as  you'd  do  a  day's  wash. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Angrily)  Really!  You  don't 
say. 

(Enter  from  baggage  room,  Dawson,  Luella  Ann, 
William  Henry  and  Crabb.) 

Dawson.     Say,  what  about  my  check? 

Crabb.  (Pointing  to  sign  over  door)  All  bag- 
gage checked  fifteen  minutes  before  train  time.  You 
kin  spell  can't  yer?  It's  plain  as  the  nose  on  your 
face. 

Dawson.  (Furiously,  threatening  Crabb)  You 
leave  my  nose  alone. 

Crabb.  I  ain't  techin'  it.  (Crosses  Dawson, 
glares  at  Luella  Ann  and  William  Henry) 
\Vell! 

(Luella  Ann  and  William  Henry  run  to  their 
mother  at  left  screaming  "Maw!    Maw!") 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         13 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Rising)  Ain't  you  ashamed  ?  A 
grown-up  man  pickin'  on  children.  You  outer  be  re- 
ported. 

Crabb.  Go  on,  do  it.  You  ain't  much  else  to  do. 
{Crosses  up  to  door  l.  in  flat.  Mrs.  Babbit  follow- 
ing him) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Mind  you  let  me  know  when  the 
'leven  fifty-three  arrives  or  I'll  have  you  fired. 
(Crabb  exits  slattiming  door  in  her  face)  Ain't  he 
ornery  little  shrimp 

{Automobile  heard  off  l.) 
Dawson.    That's  Perce  Gill  in  his  atmobeel. 

(Mrs.    Dawson   followed   by   Luella   Ann   and 
William  Henry  rush  to  window  l.) 

William  Henry.    Maw  I  want  to  see. 

Luella  Ann.  I  want  to  see  what's  tootin',  Paw ! 
{Climbs  on  bench.  Mrs.  Dawson  lifts  William 
Henry  up  on  bench)  He  ain't  tootin  Paw  make 
him  toot  it. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  {Looking  out  window)  Which 
of  the  wimmin  is  Mrs.  Gill  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Looking  out  windoiv  over  Mrs. 
Dawson's  shoulder)  The  one  Mr.  Gill's  payin'  no 
attention  to. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Ain't  they  dressed  to  madness? 
What's  them  things  on  their  eyes. 

Dawson.  Blinders !  All  women  ought  to  wear 
'em.  . 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Guess  most  married  wimmin'd  be 
easier  in  their  minds  if  they  did.  {Enter  Perce 
Gill  door  l.  in  flat.  Mrs.  Babbit  turning  quickly 
from  window)  Is  that  the  'leven  fifty-three?  Oh, 
how  de  do,  Mr.  Gill.    Merry  Christmas. 

Gill.  Same  to  you,  widder.  {Joins  Dawson  at 
c.)     Hello,  Dawson,  Merry  Christmas. 


14         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Dawson.    Same  to  you  Perce ! 

Gill.  ( To  Mrs.  Dawson  ivho  has  come  down  L. 
to  L.  of  bench)    Why  how  de  do,  Mrs.  Dawson. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  How  de  do,  Mr.  Gill.  Merry 
Christmas. 

LuELLA  Ann.  (Rimning  to  Gill  at  c.)  Merry 
Kistmas!     Merry  Kistmas ! 

Gill.  (Picking  her  up  in  his  arms  and  swinging 
her  around  to  his  right)  Same  to  you  Luella  Ann. 
Got  a  kiss  for  me  to-day  ? 

Luella  Ann.  {Kissing  him)  One  frum  me, 
(Kissing  him  again)  and  one  frum  Santa  Glaus. 

Gill.  Well,  Santa  Glaus  didn't  bring  me  nothin' 
better'n  that.  (He  turns  to  William  Henry,  Jr., 
who  has  followed  Luella  Ann  to  c.)  How's 
William  Henry,  Jr.? 

William  Henry.  (Frightened  at  goggles  and 
fur  coat,  runs  to  Mrs.  Dawson)  Oh,  Maw,  I'll  be 
good,  I'll  be  good ! 

Luella  Ann.  (Following  William  Henry) 
Cry  baby!  Scardey  cat!  (Turning  back  to  Gill) 
I  ain't  afraid  o'  you.  (Laughs  loudly)  Oh,  Maw, 
don't  he  look  like  a  Teddy  Bear? 

Mrs.  Dawson.    Don't  be  forward  Lueller  Ann. 

Dawson.  (Moving  to  front  of  bench  r.)  Ain't 
that  kid  the  caution  ? 

Gill.  (Moving  over  tozvard  bench  r.)  Chip  o' 
the  old  block  !    Takin'  a  trip  Dawson  ? 

Dawson.    Not  very  f er ! 

Luella  Ann.  (At  c.)  We're  goin'  over  to 
granmas.  To  show  her  what  Santa  Glaus  brought 
me.    I  got  a  dolly. 

William  Henry.  (Coming  to  r.  end  of  bench  l.) 
I  got  a  sled. 

Luella  Ann.  And  new  pants.  They  used  to  be 
Paw's.     (Raising  her  skirts)     I  got  new  pants  too! 

William  Henry.    They  used  to  be  maw's. 

(Gill  and  Dawson  laugh  loudly.    Mrs.  Babbit  is 
horrified  and  Mrs.  Dawson  much  embarrassed.) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  15 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Running  to  Luella)  Lueller 
Ann  put  down  your  clothes  this  instant  minit. 
You're  much  too  big  a  girl.  (She  takes  Luf^la 
Ann  over  to  bench  under  zvindoiv  l.  2  e.  William 
Henry  joins  them) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    How's  folks,  Mr.  Gill? 

Gill.    Oh,  prosperous — (Laughs) 

Uawson.  (Going  up  back  of  bench  r.)  I  should 
think  so — that  atombeel  must  a  set  you  back  a 
few 

Gill.  (Moving  r.  above  bench)  Oh,  a  few 
hundreds — (Gives  Dawson  cigarette) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  A  fool  and  his  money  soon  parted 
—  (Goes  up  to  slot  machine  l,  of  ticket  windozv) 

Gill.    We're  here  only  onct 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Lucky  for  you.  At  the  rate  you're 
goin',  if  you  had  to  come  back  you'd  be  eatin' 
cobble-stones — (Working  slot-machine) 

Gill.  Look  a  here,  widder,  I  ain't  spendin'  your 
money 

Mrs.  Babbit,  You  bet  you  ain't — you  nor  no 
other  man 

(Crabb  enters  r.  door  in  flat  with  tire.) 

Crabb.  Here's  your  tire — (Leans  tire  up  against 
L.  bench  r.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Say,  you,  my  penny's  in  that 
box — (Coming  to  C.) 

Crabb.    Well,  what  about  it? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  There's  this  about  it — I  put  my 
money  in  there — (Moving  down  c.)  and  got  nothin' 
for  my  pains.     That  machine's  a  lying  snare 

Crabb.  It  ain't  workin' — (Winks  at  Gill  and 
Dawson) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  There  ain't  much  about  this  depot 
as  is  workin' 

Crabb.  Well,  you've  been  workin'  your  jaw  con- 
siderable  


i6        THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I'm  not  the  woman  to  stand  by 
and  left  you  or  anybody  else  rob  me!  {Goes  to 
window  and  pounds  on  it;  it  is  raised  to  disclose 
Beth  Elliott) 

(Crabb  moves  across  front  of  bench  r.,  near  his 
exit  r.  I  E.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Why,  Beth  Elliott,  you've  been 
here  all  this  time 

Beth  (Leaning  out  of  window)  What's  the 
matter  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.     My  penny's  in  the  box 

Dawson.  Oh,  quit  fussin',  it's  only  a  penny. 
(Crossing  to  R.  of  ticket-window) 

Beth.  The  penny  sometimes  sticks.  (Going 
out  of  ticket  office  to  slot  machine.  As  she  starts 
Crabb  looks  as  though  tired  of  it  all) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Very  likely,  I'm  not  castin'  any 
insinuations,  but  I'd  find  out  where  it  sticks — 
(Looks  at  Crabb) 

(Crabb  exits  r.  i  e.  shaking  his  fist  at  Mrs.  Babbit. 
Beth  gives  Mrs.  Babbit  chewing  gum.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    How  are  you,  dear? 

Beth.     Fine — how  are  you? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Proceeds  to  eat  chewing  gum) 
My  dispepsy's  killing  me — (Crossing  to  bench  L. 
Beth  back  in  office) 

Gill.    Too  much  riotous  livin',  widder 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Moving  dozvn  to  upper  bench 
L.)  Guess  you  never  took  your  meals  steady  at  the 
Elite — (Sits  zvith  back  to  audience) 

Dawson.    Well,  how  is  business,  Beth? 

Beth.  Very  slow  to-day — who  cares  to  leave 
hoiiie  on  Christmas  Day — where  to? 

Dawson.     Over  to  Mother's — (Getting  money) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  17 

(Beth  gets  Hvo  tickets,  stamps  them,  etc.     Royce 
enters  l.  door  in  flat.) 

Dawson.  (At  r.  of  ticket  windozv)  Hello, 
Royce 

Royce.  {Comes  dozvn.  Accosts  everyone) 
Hello,  Dawson — Mrs.  Babbit — (Crosses  to  ticket 
zvindozv)    How  do  you  do,  Miss  Elliott? 

Beth.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Royce?  Did  you 
receive  the  telegram  I  delivered  this  morning? 

Royce.  To  meet  Mr.  Drury  here — yes.  Have 
you  received  orders  to  flag  that  through  train  for 
him  ? 

Beth.    Yes,  I've  attended  to  it 

Gill.  (Moving  over  1..  end  of  bench  r.)  Thought 
that  was  your  boss,  old  ]\Iartin  Drury,  I  passed  just 
outside  the  town.  (Getting  tire  and  carrying  it  over 
L.  shoulder)     He  goin'  to  take  a  train  to-day? 

Royce.    Yes. 

Gill.  Well,  I  hope  he  gets  here — ^lie's  riding  in 
one  of  them  Junction  hacks — (AH  laugh.  Amoving 
to  L.  of  zvindozv — Royce  crosses  to  stove)  See 
your  land's  up  for  sale  again,  Beth  ? 

Beth.  Yes,  to-morrow — the  taxes  haven't  been 
paid  for  years. 

Gill.  Well,  if  the  township  ain't  been  able  to 
find  a  buyer  in  all  these  years  I  guess  you  needn't 
worry — anyway  it  ain't  worth  nothin'. 

Beth.  Father  was  sure  it  would  be  valuable 
some  day. 

Gill.  Well,  what  your  paw  didn't  know  about 
land  would  fill  a  book 

]\Irs.  B.\bbit.  (Turning  zvhere  she  sits)  What 
do  you  know  about  it,  shiftless  critter,  careerin' 
around  the  country  lettin'  your  land  go  to  the  dogs ! 

Gill.  Maybe — but  my  women- folks  don't  punch 
tickets  for  a  livin' — (Mrs.  Babbit  sits  around  ajxd 
subsides)  Seems  a  pity  to  see  a  nice  girl  like  Beth 
wastin'  herself  in  a  railroad  office  when  there's  so 


i8         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

many  men  that'd  like  to  take  her  out  of  it,  eh,  Daw- 
son? And  guess  if  rumor's  true  she  wouldn't  have 
so  ail  Hred  far  to  go,  eh,  Royce?  (Beth  puts  down 
window  in  ticket  office.  Gill  laughs  loudly  at  his 
own  tlwust)  Come  out  and  see  me  shoe  my  nag — 
{Exits  follozved  by  Dawson) 

Mrs.  Dawson.  Comin',  Mrs.  Babbit.  {Exits, 
followed  by  Luella  Ann  and  William  Henry) 

(Beth  comes  out  of  ticket-office,  carrying  express 
book,  crosses  to  baggage  room  and  exits.  Enter 
Drury  l.  door  in  fiat.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Rises — to  Drury)  Excuse  me 
— did  you  see  my  train  comin'? 

Drury.     I  wasn't  looking  for  it,  Madam. 

(Enter  Crabb  with  flag.     Comes  to  c.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Would  you  let  me  know  when 
it's  eleven  fifty-three?  (Looks  at  Crabb)  Can't 
trust  that  loafer  of  a  baggageman 

Crabb.    Nobody  ast  you  to.    (Shakes  flag  at  her) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Speak  when  you're  spoken  to — 
(Crabb  and  Mrs.  Babbit  exit.  Crabb  exits  door 
R.,  back.     Mrs.  Babbit  door  l.  back) 

RoYCE.  (Coming  to  r.)  Your  wire  was  a  sur- 
prise, Mr.  Drury :  thought  you'd  been  spending 
Christmas  with  your  family 

Drury.  (Down  to  Royce)  Can't  let  holidays 
interfere  with  business. 

Royce.     Coming  over  to  the  store. 

Drury.  (Taking  out  watch)  Haven't  time — 
my  train  will  be  here  in  a  minute  I've  been  over 
to  the  Junction,  picking  up  a  little  something  from 
Santa  Claus 

Royce.  Oh,  you  don't  want  to  see  me  about  the 
store  ? 

Drury.,     (Moving  to  bench  l.,  sits)     I've  got 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  19 

another  job  for  you,  something  in  the  real  estate 
line 

RoYCE.  {Crosses  to  bench  and  sits)  Anything 
you  say,  Mr.  Drury. 

Drury.  Now  listen  to  me.  (Both  sit  on 
bench)  Then  keep  a  close  mouth  about  it;  the 
railroad's  got  a  deal  on  foot.  I've  been  tipped  off 
that  they're  going  to  put  another  spur  of  tracks 
through  at  the  Junction. 

RoYCE.     They  don't  know  that  down  here. 

Drury.  Don't  interrupt  me  with  fool  remarks ! 
Of  course  they  don't.  Think  the  railroad  is  adver- 
tising what  they're  going  to  do?  I've  a  man  at 
headquarters,  and  he  and  I  are  going  to  milk  that 
railroad  dry.  I  hustled  down  here  this  morning  to 
look  the  ground  over,  found  that  the  piece  they 
need  is  to  be  sold  to-morrow  by  the  township,  for 
accumulated  taxes. 

RoYCE.     Who's  the  owner? 

Drury.  I  was  told  it's  known  as  Elliott's  Stone 
Pile. 

RoYCE.  Elliott — why,  that  must  be  Beth  Elliott's 
land. 

Drury.    Who's  she?    Where  is  she? 

RoYCE.    Here. 

Drury.    What  ? 

RoYCE.    She's  the  operator  at  this  depot. 

Drury.  We  must  have  that  land  before  the 
railroad  can  reach  her. 

RoYCE.  Why  don't  you  make  her  an  offer  for 
it  here,  now  ? 

Drury.  Why  ?  You  can  go  over  to-morrow  and 
buy  it  in ;  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  pay  the  taxes. 
They  can't  amount  to  more  than  a  few  hundred 
dollars. 

Royce.  (Rises  and  crosses  c.)  I  don't  like  the 
job. 

Drury.  Oh,  I  see,  a  little  bit  taken  with  the  girl! 
Don't  be  a  chump,  Royce.     Women  are  strewed 


20         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

around  for  the  asking ;  but  in  this  world  it's  money ; 
cold,  hard  money,  that  talks. 

RovcE.  {Sitting  again)  What  do  I  get  out  of 
it? 

Drury.  I  can't  appear  in  the  deal,  it  might 
get  too  warm  for  my  friend  at  headquarters ;  I'll 
declare  you  in  on  it. 

RovcE.    I  may  queer  myself  with  her. 

Drury.  Not  if  I  know  anything  about  w'omen. 
Man's  more  attractive  backed  up  by  a  little  money, 
and  I've  never  found  them  inquisitive  as  to  where 
you  get  it.  Well,  are  you  with  us.  (Whistle) 
It's  you  or  some  other  man. 

RoYCE.    I  don't  know 

Drury.     Guess  that's  my  train.     (Crosses  to  c.) 

RoYCE.  (^Rises  and  Crosses  to  Drury)  I'll  take 
it  on. 

Drury.  That's  good.  (Beth  enters  r.,  comes 
quickly  back  of  Drury  and  Royce  and  exits  to  ticket 
office.  RoYCE  points  to  Beth.  Drury  looks  at  her) 
Now  you  pump  that  girl ;  I'll  be  down  in  the  after- 
noon on  the  2:15. 

(Train  eff^ecf  louder.     Beth  opens  ticket  window. 
Mrs.  Babbit  enters  door  l.  in  back  flat.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    That  my  train? 

(Royce  and  Drury  look  at  her,  laugh,  and  exit 
quickly,  door  r.  in  back  flat.) 

1\Trs.  Babbit.  (Rushes  to  bench — picks  up 
bundles,  drops  one  on  7va\  to  door,  etc.,  looks 
out  door)     THAT  MY  TRAIN? 

Outside  Voice.  Yes,  if  you're  going  to  Indian- 
apolis. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your 
head.  (Train  pulls  out.  Mrs.  Babbit  goes  to 
bench  and  drops  bundles.    Enter  Gill) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         21 

Gill.    Say,  Miss  Beth,  got  a  crowbar  handy? 
Beth.    No — what's  the  matter? 
Gill.    Machine's  out  a  wack.    Kin  I  borrow  thiw 
poker  ? 

Beth.    Certainly. 

(Gill  gets  poker  at  stove  r.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Moving  up  back  of  bench  r.) 
Better  take  the  axe. 

Gill.  Good  idea.  (Gets  axe  at  r.  of  railroad 
ticket  zvindozv)  When  an  atmobeel  gets  balky  you 
never  kin  tell  what  will  come  in  handy.  {Crossing 
to  l.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Coming  l.,  front  of  ticket  zvin- 
doiv)  Well,  if  I  owned  one  of  them  pesky  con- 
trapshuns  seems  to  me  I'd  know  enough  to  doctor 
it. 

Gill.  {At  door  l.  in  fiat)  Oh,  you  would, 
would  you?  Well,  if  you  know  so  all-fired  much, 
maybe,  you'll  come  out  and  give  us  the  benefit  of 
your  valuable  advice. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I  will.  {Coming  close  to  Gill) 
I'm  no  mechanic,  but  I  ain't  run  a  sewing  machine 
for  twelve  years  without  knowin'  somethin'  about 
machinery !    (Mrs.  Babbit  exits,  follozved  by  Gill) 

(Beth  crosses  to  zvindozv  over  l.  from  ticket  of- 
fice. RoYCE  enters  from  door  r.  in  flat;  stops 
in  front  of  ticket  zi'indozv,  looks  in,  then  sees 
Beth.) 

Beth.  Oh,  I  do  hope  they'll  be  careful.  {Look- 
ing out  zvindozv) 

Royce.    Careful?    Of  what? 

Beth.  Mrs.  Babbit's  pokin'  around  that  automo- 
bile—  {Looking  at  Royce)  and  I'm  afraid  it  will  go 
ofif,  or  something.     {Looking  out  zvindozv) 

Royce.    Oh,  I  wouldn't  worry. 


22         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Beth.  I  don't  want  to  lose  the  only  friend  I 
have. 

RoYCE.    Only  friend?    What  about  me? 

Beth.    Oh,  you ! 

RoYCE.  Don't  I  count  for  anything  ?  Gill  seemed 
to  think  so  with  his  obvious  hints  that  I  wished  to 
marry  you. 

Beth.     That's  country  humor.     (Coming  c.) 

RoYCE.  Suppose  I  considered  it  a  serious  sugges- 
tion ? 

Beth.  What  good  would  that  do — if  I  consider  it 
a  humorous  one  ? 

RoYCE.  It  goes  against  the  grain  to  see  you 
work. 

Beth.  Why  shouldn't  I  work  ?  I'm  well,  strong 
(Moving  to  r.   bench  l.)    and  moderately  happy. 

Royce.    Moderately ! 

Beth.  W^ell,  if  a  placard  (Pointing  to  placard) 
advertising  the  sale  of  all  you  possess  in  the  world 
was  staring  you  out  of  countenance,  you  wouldn't  be 
exactly  joyful,  would  you? 

RoYCE.  Oh,  is  your  land  to  be  sold ?  (Going  up 
to  placard) 

Beth.  The  township  will  offer  it  for  sale  again 
to-morrow. 

RoYCE.  Can't  you  pay  your  taxes?  (Reading 
placard) 

Beth.    I  haven't  enough  money. 

RoYCE.  (Meaningly)  Much  due  on  it  .f"  (Moving 
down  c.) 

Beth.  That  depends  on  what  "  much  "  signifies ; 
four  hundred  dollars  is  a  fortune  to  me 

RoYCE.  (Meaningly)  Do  you  think  anyone's 
likely  to  go  over  to  the  Junction  to-morrow  and 
bid  it  in? 

Beth.  My  friends  know  how  much  it  means  to 
me,  and  they  wouldn't  take  advantage  of  me.  Be- 
sides, if  anyone  did,  I  should  be  furiously  angry. 

RoYCE.     (Moving  toward  her)     I  don't  believe 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         23 

you  could ;  you're  so  invariably  charming  that  I 
can't  imagine  you  different. 

Beth.  I'd  be  different,  all  right!  (Moving  up- 
stage) 

RoYCE.  (Moving  up  to  her)  Would  you  really 
put  up  a  fight  ? 

Beth.  Would  I  ?  I'd  give  the  person  who  tricked 
me  out  of  my  land  the  surprise  of  his  life. 

RoYCE.  I  think  that's  a  bluff.  I'm  sure  you'd  be 
like  every  other  woman:  admire  the  man  who  de- 
feated you. 

Beth.  That  shows  how  little  you  know  Beth 
Elliott.  (Going  into  office.  Enter  Mrs.  Babbit 
L.  door  in  flat) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (To  Royce)  I  can't  stay  out 
there  catching  chillblains  just  to  see  Perce  Gill 
break  his  neck,  (Moving  down  to  bench  r.  Royce 
crossing  l.  hy  bench)  though  it'd  be  a  good  riddance 
to  the  community  and  at  the  same  time  a  real  plea- 
sure to  me. 

Beth.    Did  you  fix  the  machine? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Certainly:  after  they  all  got 
through  with  their  crowbars,  I  just  jabbed  some- 
thing with  a  hairpin.     (Sits  down  on  bench  r.) 

Beth.  (To  Royce)  Did  you  want  to  see  me 
about  anything  in  particular? 

Royce.  No — just  to  say  Merry  Christmas. 
(Coming  to  ticket-zvindow) 

Beth.     (Indifferently)     Merry  Christmas. 

Royce,  Now  that  I've  said  it,  I'll  be  going  along. 
When  do  you  shut  up  shop  ? 

Beth.  (Indifferently,  fixing  change  in  drawer) 
Crabb  comes  on  duty  in  the  afternoon. 

Royce.    May  I  come  back  to  walk  home  with  you  ? 

Beth.     If  you  care  to.     (Fixing  tickets  in  rack) 

Royce.    That  means? 

Beth.  (Carelessly,  not  looking  at  him)  Just 
what  it  says.    Good-bye. 


24         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 
(Mrs.  Babbit  laughs  to  herself.) 

RoYCE.  (Staggered)  Good-bye.  Good-morn- 
ing, Mrs.  Babbit,  pleased  to  have  seen  you.  (£;r»f 
door  L.  in  flat) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    I  can't  abide  that  man. 

Beth.  (Coining  out  of  office,  down  to  M»s. 
Babbit)    Oh,  he's  very  agreeable. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  So  is  Satan;  I  hope  you  ain't 
goin'  to  take  up  with  him. 

Beth.     (Back  of  bench)     Oh,  dear,  no. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  It  ain't  his  fault;  he's  wore  a 
beaten  track  ever  since  he's  been  here,  from  this 
depot  to  the  store,  and  I  notice  you  go  to  his 
office  considerable. 

Beth.  That's  business:  Mr.  Royce  receives  a 
great  many  telegrams,  and  it's  part  of  my  work  to 
deliver  them. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Of  course  I've  no  right  to  in- 
terfere, 

Beth.  (Putting  arm  around  her)  You  couldn't 
interfere. 

Mrs.  Babbit.     I  s'pose  I'm  an  old  busybody? 

Beth.  (Putting  her  cheek  against  Mrs.  Babbit's) 
You're  an  old  dear. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Looks  more  pleasant)  Glad 
somebody  thinks  so.  Tom  Babbit  aluz  said  I 
had  the  disposition  of  a  crab-apple,  (Turning  to 
Beth,  taking  her  hand)  but  you  mean  a  lot  to 
me,  dearie,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  throw  your- 
self away. 

Beth.     On  Mr.  Royce!     (Crossing  towards  c.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I  never  could  trust  a  man  so 
all-fired  polite — 'tain't  natural!  I'm  not  one  to 
gossip,  but  they  do  say  him  and  Martin  Drury  beat 
Mrs.  Stratton  out  of  the  store. 

Beth.  Why  did  she  let  herself  be  robbed?  I 
wouldn't ! 

Mrs.   Babbit.      (Rising)      But   you   got   spimk 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         25 

— that's  why  I  alius  liked  you.  {Crossing  to  Beth) 
When  your  Paw  died  you  didn't  set  around  and 
cry,  you  got  out  and  hustled,  though  you  know 
I  alius  tell  you  my  foldin'  bed's  big  enough  for 
both  of  us. 

Beth.  Yes,  I  know ;  bless  your  heart,  but  you 
hked  me  because  I've  a  home  of  my  own. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Home — hm!  It  seems  like 
slanderin'  the  word  to  apply  it  to  Mrs.  Tompkins' 
boardin-house.    Where's  your  dinner? 

Beth.  In  here.  (Going  into  office,  picks  up 
dinner  basket,  shozi's  it  to  Mrs.  Babbit) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Follozuing  Beth  up  to  ticket 
window)  Lands'  sakes,  it  ain't  right,  you'd 
oughter  be  eatin'  side  a  some  good  man  !  Why  don't 
you  take  up  with  some  nice  fellers  around  here? 
It  ain't  for  want  of  a  chance,  for  I  never  seed  in 
all  my  life  so  many  men  shoppin'  for  railroad 
tickets.     {Crosses  r.  back  of  bench  r.) 

{Enter  Gill  with  the  axe  zvhich  he  returns  to  its 
place.  He  is  followed  by  Mrs.  Dawson, 
LuELLA  Ann  and  William  Henry  zvho  carries 
the  poker  and  exits  unobserved,  into  baggage 
room.  Mrs.  D.\wson  comes  dozvn  and  sits  on 
bench  l.,  Luella  Ann  beside  her.  Gill  crosses 
back  to  ticket  zvindozv.) 

Gill.  By  gosh,  Miss  Beth  I  clean  forgot  to  pay 
the  charges  on  them  tires.    How  much? 

Beth.  '  A  dollar  ten. 

Gill.  Them  machines  do  certainly  burn  up 
money.  {Gives  her  bill)  Must  take  a  spin  with  me 
some  day. 

Beth.  {Giving  him  change)  I'd  like  to,  Mr. 
Gill. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Want  to  kill  her?  Well,  when  yer 
dead  and  gone,  remember  I  warned  yer.  (Gill 
exits,  whistle  blows  off  l.,  distant  noise  of  approach- 
ing train.    Dawson  enters  excitedly) 


26         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Dawson.  Come  on,  Maw.  {Mrs.  Dawson  starts 
for  the  door)  Bring  the  bundles — the  bundles! 
(Exits) 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Rushing  back  to  bench,  grabbing 
bundles)  I'm  so  excited  I  don't  know  where  I'm  at. 
(Looking  around)  I  can't  find  my  little  grip.  Mrs. 
Babbit,  Mrs.  Babbit  give  me  a  hand!  (Mrs. 
Dawson  rushes  up  to  door  l.  in  flat.  Calling  off) 
Paw,  Paw,  my  little  grip ! 

(Mrs.  Babbit  drops  her  bundle  on  bench  r..  crosses 
to  c.  Mrs.  Dawson  comes  down  l.  of  bench  l. 
Luella  Ann  runs  up  to  door  l.  in  flat.    Exits.) 

Crabb.  (Off-stage)  All  aboard!  All  aboard! 
Eleven  fifty-three.     (Enters  door  r.  in  flat) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Someone  hold  that  train ! 

Crabb.  (Coming  down  to  Mrs.  Babbit  c.)  All 
aboard,  'leven  fifty-three. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Turning  on  him  furiously)  Don't 
stand  there,  you  big  lummix,  give  us  a  hand ! 

(Exit  Crabb  r.  door  in  flat.) 

Mrs.  Dawson.  (Running  up  to  door  l.  in  flat) 
Paw,  Paw,  my  little  grip.    I  can't  find  my  little  grip. 

(Enter  Dawson  door  l.  in  flat,  conies  down  by 
bench  center,  follozved  by  Luella  Ann.) 

Dawson.  What's  the  matter  with  you?  What 
have  you  lost  ? 

Mrs.  Dawson.    My  little  grip ! 

(Mrs.  Babbit  picks  up  valise  r.  of  bench  l.,  turning 
quickly  jams  it  into  Dawson's  stomach.) 

Dawson.  (Grabbing  it  from  her)  Is  this  the 
one? 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         27 

Mrs.  Dawson.    No,  my  little  grip. 

(Enter  Conductor  l.  door  in  flat.    Stands  left  of 
door.) 

Conductor.    All  aboard ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Hold  that  train.    It's  life  or  death. 

Dawson.  (Picking  tip  small  grip  underneath 
bench  l.)  Here  it  is  right  in  front  of  yer  eyes. 
You  wimmin  can't  find  nuthin'. 

Mrs.  Dawson.    Of  course,  I'm  to  blame. 

Dawson.  Come  on  here.  {He  starts  for  door  l. 
in  flat,  followed  by  Mrs.  Dawson  and  Luella  Ann) 

Conductor.    Get  a  move  on ! 

Dawson.    Don't  give  me  none  of  your  lip. 

Mrs.  Dawson.  {Separating  them)  That's  right, 
pick  a  fuss.  (Dawson  exits.  Mjjs.  Dawson  grabs 
Luella's  hand,  puts  out  other  hand  for  William 
Henry.  He  is  not  there)  My  Gawd !  Where's  the 
baby? 

{Enter  Crabb,  r.  door  in  flat.  Mrs.  Dawson  and 
Mrs.  Babbit  rush  to  him.  Both  crying: 
"Where's  the  baby?"  Crabb  stands  be- 
wildered. Conductor  keeps  calling  "All 
aboard  " .  Presently  from  door  to  baggage  room 
enter  William  Henry,  carrying  a  red  flag  over 
his  shoulder. ) 

William  Henry.    All  aboard!    All  aboard! 

(Mrs.  Babbit  grabs  William  Henry  spanks  him. 
Crabb  jerks  the  flag  from  William  Henry's 
hand,  Mrs.  Dawson  grabs  him  and  shakes  him. 
Dawson  appears  at  door  yelling  "  Come  on  ". 
Conductor  continues  to  yell  "  All  aboard ", 
William  Henry  cries  loudly,  the  Dawson 
family  clamber  on  train.) 


28  THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN 

Crabb.  {To  Mrs.  Babbit)  All  aboard,  'Leven 
fifty-three. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Catching  sight  of  crock  of  apple 
butter  forgotten  in  the  excitement)  Don't  bother 
me.  {Picks  up  crock,  rushes  to  door)  Mrs.  Daw- 
son !  Mrs.  Dawson !  Here's  your  apple  butter ! 
(Conductor  grabs  the  crock  from  her)  Good-bye 
— Good-bye!  {The  Conductor  slams  the  door  in 
her  face.  Mrs.  Babbit  comes  down  ■wearily,  sits 
bench  l.  Effect  of  departing  train.  Mrs.  Babbit 
looks  up  at  clock.  To  Crabb)  Say,  when  does  that 
'Leven  fifty-three  go? 

Crabb.    {Shrieking  with  laughter)    It's  jest  gone! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Rising  quickly)  What?  {Chases 
Crabb  off  through  door  to  Baggage  Room) 

Beth.  {Coming  out  of  office)  Why,  Mrs. 
Babbit,  aren't  you  going ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Furiously)  Oh,  no,  I'm  not 
going,  just  loafin'  around  the  depot.  {Picks  up 
bundles  one  after  the  other) 

Beth.     Oh,  I'm  so  sorry. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  That's  your  reward  for  a  health- 
ful, self-sacrificing  nature !  Drat  that  Dawson  wo- 
man ;  I  wish  I  had  her  here  for  five  minutes ! 

Beth.  There  is  a  later  train.  {Going  back  to 
ticket-office) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Putting  cape  on  and  getting 
bundles)  I'll  get  even  with  this  road :  give  me 
back  my  dollar  thirty-three;  just  for  spite  I  won't 
go.  {Gets  ticket  out  of  bag,  slams  it  on  shelf  of 
window.    Crossing  to  ticket  office) 

Beth.  {At  window  of  ticket-office)  It's  too 
bad.     {Takes  ticket) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Crying)  I'm  a  poor  unfor- 
tunate, spendin'  Christmas  in  a  hotel  room !  Not 
a  soul  to  pass  me  a  kind  word. 

Beth.  {Giving  Mrs.  Babbit  money  for  ticket) 
Never  mind,  I'll  come  over  to-night  and  we'll  cheer 
up  together. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         29 

Mrs.  Babbit.     (Taking  money)     Do. 

Beth.     Good-bye  for  the  present. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Crossing  to  door  l.  in  flat) 
Good-bye — good-bye.  (Stops)  Say  —  say  —  my 
trunk's  on  that  train.  (Walking  toward  office) 
You  telegraph  for  it ;  I  ain't  got  a  clean  night- 
gown to  my  back !     (Exits  door  l.  in  flat) 

(Beth  lays  her  head  on  the  counter  and  laughs 
heartily.  Enter  Blake  u.  l.,  a  typical  city 
driiuimer.  He  has  a  dress-suit  case  and  um- 
brella. He  comes  to  zvindow.  Beth  has  her 
head  buried  in  her  arms  laughing ;  she  doesn't 
hear  him;  there  is  a  pause.  Blake  looks  at 
her  for  a  moment,  then  the  contagion  of  her 
laugh  strikes  him  and  he  joins  in.  Beth 
raises  her  head;  they  look  at  each  other.) 

Blake.  (Standing  l.  of  ivindozv.  Facing  front 
in  the  entire  scene)  Go  on,  enjoy  yourself,  don't 
mind  me.     (Putting  grip  dozvn) 

Beth.    What  can  I  do  for  you? 

Blake.  Put  me  close  to  that  joke — it  must  be 
good 

Beth.     Sir? 

Blake.  I  beg  your — (Bowing  to  her)  pardon. 
When  does  the  next  train  go  ? 

Beth.     North  or  South? 

Blake.    Search  me! 

Beth.  .  Sir? 

Blake.  (Turning)  I — (Bowing)  beg  your 
pardon— but,  I  don't  know  which  is  which:  my 
bump  of  locality's  a  dimple. 

Beth.     Where  did  you  come  from? 

Blake.  I  got  off  that  train  just  as  it  pulled 
out. 

Beth.    Where  do  you  wish  to  go? 

Blake.     (Strong)     Back. 

Beth.    How  far? 


30         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.    Search  me. 

Beth.  This  is  a  depot,  not  a  customs-house. 
{She  turns  away  to  telegraph  instrument  on  shelf 
at  back  of  ticket  office) 

Blake.  {To  himself.  Moving  down  stage  to  r., 
hus.  hand  to  jaw,  etc.)  That  rang  the  bell — ■ 
{Turning  up)  See  here,  Miss,  I  beg  your  par- 
don, (Beth  comes  to  windozv)  but  I  must  have 
come  from  somewhere.  {Going  up  to  window  at  r. 
of  window,  and  facing  audience) 

Beth.  {Freesingly)  Presumably — you're  a 
stranger  to  me. 

Blake.  I  can  remedy  that.  See  here,  my  good 
girl. 

Beth.    I  am  not  your  good  girl ! 

Blake.  I'm  not  to  blame  for  that.  (Beth  is  in- 
dignant)   I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I'm  lost. 

Beth.  How  careless!  (Blake  gets  in  front  of 
window.  Crabb  enters  r.  i  e.  from  baggage- 
room)  Oh,  Mr.  Crabb  {To  Blake)  stand  to  one 
side,  please.  (Blake  goes  r.  a  little,  to  stove)  Now, 
don't  hurry  over  your  dinner,  Mr.  Crabb,  I  have 
mine  here.  Have  a  good  time  with  the  kiddies. 
(Crabb  passing  zvindow  to  door  l.  in  flat)  Wait,  I 
have  something  for  them.  (Crabb  stops,  looks  at 
clock.  Beth  takes  out  a  package  wrapped  in  tissue- 
paper  and  decorated  with  holly  and  red  ribbon) 
Give  them  my  love  and  a  Merry  Christmas  ! 

Crabb.  {Coming  to  window,  wipes  hands  on 
trousers)  Thank  you,  Miss — thank  you.  {Exits 
door  L.  in  fiat) 

Blake.  She's  a  nice  little  party.  {Sings) 
"  Gee  I  wish  I  had  a  girl."  {He  crosses  to  zvin- 
dow; as  he  reaches  it,  Beth  closes  it)  Going 
down!  Blake,  you're  in  wrong — (Blake  goes  to 
the  r.  windozv  and  taps  meekly,  then  he  taps  again; 
Beth  opens  it  quickly) 

Beth.    This  office  is  closed  except  for  the  trans- 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         31 

mission  of  telegrams.  (She  starts  to  close  the  zvin- 
dozv;  Blake  stops  her  with  left  hand) 

Blake.  All  right,  me  for  transmitting!  {Lays 
umbrella  on  ledge  of  windozv.  Beth  pulls  a  pad  of 
telegraph  blanks  and  a  pencil  tied  zvith  a  string ; 
shoves  them  fozvard  him  indifferently,  looks  over  his 
head.  Blake  smiles  and  looks  at  her.  Beth  turns 
azvay,  frozvning)  Cold,  to-day.  (Looks  at  her 
again,  smiling  and  turns  azvay)  Colder  with  occa- 
sional snow.  (Fishes  for  pencil  zvhich  dangles  at 
end  of  string)    What's  the  date?    (Starts  to  zvrite) 

Beth.  I  believe  Christmas  usually  falls  on  De- 
cember 25th. 

Blake.  (Lays  dozvn  pencil)  You  must  think 
me  foolish. 

Beth.    You  weren't  in  my  thoughts. 

Blake.  (Quickly  bends  over  to  zvrite)  What's 
this  place  ? 

Beth.    Grand  Crossing. 

Blake.  Why,  that's  where  I  want  to  go.  (Push- 
ing telegraph  pad) 

Beth.  Don't  let  me  detain  you.  (Turns  up  to 
telegraph  instrument) 

Blake.  (Turning  and  stepping  dozvn  a  bit, 
then  directly  to  zvindozv)  I  was  out  last  night 
but  I  wasn't  bad.  Now  wait  a  minute.  I  woke 
up  as  we  left  the  last  stop  an'  I  distinctly  heard 
some  yap  articulate.  Grand  Crossing. 

Beth.  (Comes  back  to  zvindozv)  That  was 
Grand  Crossing  Junction. 

Blake.    You  must  think  me  stupid. 

Beth.  (Witheringly)  How  could  I?  (Blake 
looks  front.  The  instrument  begins  to  tick  loudly. 
Beth  turns  to  it.  Blake  looks  at  her)  That  is 
the  Junction  calling  now?  (Blake  crosses  to  L.  of 
zvindozv)     Is  your  name  Blake? 

Blake.     Yes. 

Beth.    What's  your  first  name  ? 


32         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  Are  we  going  to  tell  real  names? 
(Looking  through  windozv) 

Beth.  A  Mr.  Watts,  Ted  Watts,  wants  to 
know  if  you  are  Bob  Blake? 

Blake.  That's  my  number.  {Looking  front — 
loud  laugh  from  Beth)     What  does  he  say? 

Beth.  {Coming  to  windozv)  He  was  describ- 
ing you.    It's  so  funny. 

Blake.    Do  I  fit  it? 

Beth.    Yes,  that's  why  it  is  so  funny. 

Blake.  Don't  you  dare  identify  me !  I'll  punch 
his  fat  head.  I  wired  him  to  meet  me  here. 
W^hat'd  he  go  over  to  the  Junction  for? 

Beth.  I'm  not  in  Mr.  Watts'  confidence.  I 
suppose  you  gave  him  Junction  time  and  some 
trains  stop  there  that  go  through  here. 

Blake.  Isn't  that  a  hit?  It's  a  wonder  that  he 
wouldn't  have  looked  it  up  and  found  out  if  I  were 
right!  Isn't  it  funny  how  stupid  some  people 
are? 

Beth.     What  shall  I  wire? 

Blake.  Just  say,  Hello,  Wattsie !  {Bet-h  smiles, 
turns  up  to  ticker.  Pause)  Tell  him  to  bring  over 
my  trunks  and  meet  me  at  the  hotel.  What's  he  say 
now? 

Beth.  {Coming  to  windozv)  The  Junction  says 
he  can't  repeat  it  to  a  lady.  (Look  of  each  other 
seriously,  then  both  laugh,  Blake  loudly) 

Blake.     There  is  a  hotel? 

Beth.    The  Elite. 

Blake.  Oh,  say  not  so!  The  Elite!  Can't 
you  see  it?  (Beth  starts  to  close  the  vAndozv) 
Just  a  minute,  is  the  lunch  counter  transmitting? 

Beth.    W^e  haven't  such  a  luxury. 

Blake.     Where  is  the  nearest  coaling  station? 

Beth.  You  can  have  a  lovely  Christmas  dinner 
at  the  Elite. 

Blake.     Elite  doesn't  listen  well.     Watts  won't 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         33 

get  back  in  time.  Isn't  it  awful  to  eat  your  Qirist- 
mas  dinner  alone? 

Beth.  Oh,  1  don't  know.  I  am  obliged  to  eat 
mine  alone. 

Blake.  Oh,  no,  you're  not:  I'll  eat  with  you. 
(^Swinging  round,  looking  in  window) 

Beth.    You're  what  I  might  call 

Blake.  Fresh,  sure  I  am.  You  don't  like  stale 
men.  do  you?  Come  on,  what's  the  use  of  being 
lonesome  apart  ?  Let's  be  miserable  together.  {Fac- 
ing  window) 

Beth.    You're  not  very  flattering. 

Blake.  {Walks  round,  down-stage  to  l.)  I 
don't  dare  be — you'll  jump  on  me. 

Beth.  {Laughing  in  spite  of  herself)  You 
funny  man ! 

Blake.  What,  funny  to  you,  or  funny  to  look 
at?     {Facing  her) 

Beth.  Fishing.  I'm  going  to  take  pity  on  you: 
Miss  Beth  Elliott  requests  the  pleasure  of  Mr. 
Blake 

Blake.  {Bozving  to  her  with  hat  in  hand) 
Bob  to  you.   Bob  to  you!      {Comes   to  window) 

Beth.  Mr.  "  Bob  "  Blake's  company  to  luncheon 
immediately. 

Blake.  {Bozving  hat  off)  Mr.  Bob  Blake  ac- 
cepts Miss  Beth — short  for  Elizabeth?  {Turn- 
ing front)     Sweet  name,  "  Beth  " 

Beth.  {Getting  basket)  I  just  escaped  being 
Lizzie.  (Takes  cover  off  basket)  It  looks  awfully 
good. 

Blake.     {Meaningly)    Looks  good  to  me. 

Beth.     You  like  turkey? 

Blake.  {Looking  at  her)  I  wasn't  looking  at  the 
turkey. 

Beth.  That's  just  where  you'd  better  look, 
young  man. 

Blake.    Will  I  come  in  there? 

Beth.    No,  against  the  rules. 


34         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  (Crossing  to  R.  of  ivindow,  taking  off 
hat)    Let  me  get  in  the  bread-line. 

Beth.    What  are  you  doing? 

Blake.  (Interrupting)  Oh,  this  isn't  a  hand 
out,  it's  to  be  a  bufifet  kinch. 

Beth.  (Interrupting)  We'll  eat  over  there. 
(Pointing  to  bench  r.) 

Blake.  (Putting  hat  on)  Oh,  going  to  be  a 
regular  party!  Can  I  help  you?  (Reaching  for 
basket,  she  takes  it  away) 

Beth.    Yes,  put  some  coals  on  the  fire. 

Blake.  Well,  I'm  the  cutest  little  fireman ! 
(Beth  crosses  in  to  r.  zvith  lunch  during  stove  busi- 
ness. Blake  takes  handle  of  stove  door — fingers 
burned — then  looks  at  her,  catching  her  laughing 
at  him.  Picks  up  coal  scuttle)  Ain't  I  the  handiest 
little  thing  around  the  house?  (He  empties  scuttle, 
but  as  he  is  looking  at  Beth  the  coal  falls  on  the 
floor) 

Beth.  (Holding  up  glass  which  she  has  taken 
from  basket)     Oh,  there's  only  one  glass. 

Blake.  That's  all  right,  I'll  drink  out  of  the 
bottle. 

Beth.  Oh,  you  can't  drink  anything  out  of  a 
bottle. 

Blake,    I  don't  know.     (Taking  off  coat) 

Beth.     Possibly   you've   had   more   experience? 

Blake.  My  dear  young — operator,  I  had  you 
there!  (Putting  down  hat  and  coat  on  up-stage 
bench  r.  Coming  down  to  L.  of  bench)  I'm  not  so 
crazy  about  bottled  goods. 

Beth.  (Sitting  extreme  r.  of  bench  r.  Basket 
on  bench  l.  of  her)    That's  good. 

Blake.  I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way.  (Standing 
by  bench  l.  end) 

Beth.    Why  should  I  care? 

Blake.     No  reason,  but  I  wish  you  did. 

Beth.      (Oblivious)     Have  some  turkey? 

Bi<ake.     Gimme  the  neck.     (Sitting)     Thanks. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         35 

Beth.  {Hands  bread  and  butter)  Bread  and 
butter  ? 

Blake.  Thank  you.  (Takes  a  bite;  smiles  at  her. 
She  smiles  at  him.  Slight  pause.  They  repeat  busi- 
ness) Homemade  bread!  Gee,  I'm  crazy  about 
homemade  bread !  Why  don't  they  have  Christmas 
picnics  ? 

Beth.    Rather  chilly.    Taste  good? 

Blake.     Did  you  cook  it? 

Beth.    Oh,  you  can  be  honest  about  it. 

Blake.  Best  ever.  (She  giz'es  him  another 
small  sandzvich,  zvhich  he  looks  at)  Aren't  they 
wearin'  the  bread  thin  in  sandwiches  this  year? 
{She  laughs.  He  looks  into  basket;  she  does  same 
after  him,  tzvice)  Is  that  pie  in  there?  {Looking 
in  together  and  raising  head  at  same  time) 

Beth.    Yes. 

Blake.     What  kind? 

Beth,     Mince. 

Blake.    Like  Mother  used  to  make? 

Beth.    Yes,  have  some? 

Blake.     No.   I   don't  carry  any  life  insurance. 

Beth.  Stupid  not  to  have  another  glass,  but  I 
wasn't  expecting  company. 

Blake.  {Getting  bottle  and  glass  out  of  bas- 
ket, replacing  untouched  sandzvich  in  basket)  Let's 
make  it  a  loving  cup.  (Cork  is  on  a  string,  he  flicks 
it  zvith  his  fingers)  Say,  isn't  this  clubby?  (He 
pours  into  glass,  imitating  soda-fountain  clerk.  He 
gives  glass  to  Beth,  she  drinks,  offers  it  to  him ;  he 
tzvists  glass  around  and  drinks  out  of  same  spot) 

Beth.  Have  some  celery?  (She  gives  him  a 
very  small  piece) 

Blake.  Hope  I'm  not  robbing  you?  (He  picks 
the  leaves  off  the  stalk)  She  loves  me,  she  loves  me 
not.  (Seeing  zvishbone  in  basket)  You  gave  me  the 
wishbone.  Will  you  wish  with  me?  (Wipes  wish- 
bone on  napkin) 

Beth.    I'm  ready. 


36         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.    I  wish  I  could  eat  this  lunch  every  day. 

Beth.    Oh,  you  mustn't  tell  your  wish. 

Blake.  Now  you  must  not  cheat,  and  you  must 
pull  as  hard  as  I  do.  Now,  when  I  say  go — (They 
break  bone)     I've  lost.     {Throzvs  hone  in  basket) 

Beth.  You  didn't  want  to  get  it,  did  you? 
You'd  hate  to  eat  turkey  every  day. 

Blake.    I  wouldn't  if  you  gave  it  to  me. 

Beth.  (Looking  at  him)  See  here,  young  man, 
are  you  trying  to  flirt  with  me?  Nice  return  for 
charity  to  a 

Blake.  {Takes  out  card  and  cigarette  case) 
A  drummer. 

Beth.    Oh,  are  you  a  drummer? 

Blake.  Don't  I  look  the  part?  (Taking  out 
card)  What  did  you  think  I  was?  A  tourist? 
Permit  me.  (Hands  card  to  her)  Do  you  mind  if 
I  smoke?  (Taking  out  cigarette  and  match.  Beth 
points  to  "No  stnoking"  sign;  he  looks  at  it)  Oh, 
I  don't  believe  in  signs. 

Beth.  You  travel  for  Martin  Drury.  That's 
Mr.  Royce's  firm? 

Blake.    Yes,  I've  come  down  to  sell  Royce. 

Beth.    Oh,  you're  a  friend  of  Mr.  Royce's? 

Blake.  (Lighting  match)  Not  exactly.  Do 
you  know  him?  Of  course,  that  goes  without 
saying.  (Puffs  cigarette)  I  suppose  you  meet 
everybody?    (Lighting  cigarette  and  looking  front) 

Beth.  Because  I  am  doing  an  unconventional 
thing  now,  doesn't  mean  that  I  "  meet  everybody  " ! 
(He  looks  at  her)  When  I  began  to  work  here  I 
felt  that  every  man  who  asked  me  the  price  of  a 
ticket  should  first  be  properly  introduced.  (He 
smiles  and  leans  forward)  But  I've  gotten  over 
all  that.  A  friend  of  mine — Mrs.  Babbit,  a  dear 
sensible  soul — called  my  attention  to  it ;  she  didn't 
mince  matters,  she  simply  said,  "  Beth,  any  time 
you're  better  than  your  job,  quit  it."  I  came  right 
down  off  my  high  horse.    And  do  you  know.  I've 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         37 

made  some  of  my  best  friends  right  at  that  little 
window?     (Looking  ivistfully  at  ivindozv) 

Blake.  {Looking  toward  her)  What's  a  girl 
like  you  working  for? 

Beth.     {Lightly,  turning  front)    A  living. 

Blake.  {Sitting  up  straight)  Then  the  men  in 
this  town  must  be  a  lot  of  chumps. 

Beth.  Marriage,  you  mean  ?  I've  a  better  object 
than  that  in  view. 

Blake.    Can  a  woman  have  a  better  object  ? 

Beth.  That  depends  on  the  object.  (Blake 
moving  from  her)  Personally,  I  prefer  my  inde- 
pendence and  my  property. 

Blake.     Your  property? 

Beth.  {Putting  hand  on  chest)  You  are  lunch- 
ing with  a  land  proprietor. 

Blake.  {Rising  and  bowing  to  her  zvith  a 
grandiloquent  bow)     I  appreciate  the  honor. 

Beth.  You  don't  believe  me.  See,  I'm  going 
to  be  sold  up  for  taxes  to-morrow.  {Points  to 
placard) 

Blake.    Sold  up? 

Beth.  {Arranging  basket,  putting  in  basket, 
etc. )     Um — um 

Blake.  {Going  up  to  read  notice  of  sale  and 
puts  out  cigarette  which  he  drops  on  floor)  It 
doesn't  seem  to  worry  you? 

Beth.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  pull  a  long 
face  and  cry  over  it?  I'd  hoped  to  have  paid  the 
taxes  by  this  time,  but  I  was  ill  and  was  docked. 

Blake."    (Turning  to  her)    Docked — the  railroad 
company  docked  you  ?     Cheap  pikers !     Will  you 
lose  your  land?     Tell  me  about  it;  where  is  it? 
(Coming  dozvn  to  c.  rear  of  bench  r.) 
Beth.    You've  passed  it  on  the  way. 

Blake.  Oh,  did  I?  I  wasn't  noticing  very 
much. 

Beth.  (Blake  sits  on  up-stage  bench,  leans  on 
hack  of  it)     It  isn't  anything  to  look  at;  it  lies 


38         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

right  along  side  of  the  railroad  just  outside  of 
the  Jvmction.  It's  always  been  called  Elliott's 
Stone  Pile,  People  around  here  think  it  isn't  good 
for  much,  but  my  father  struggled  all  his  life  to 
keep  it  for  me.  It  meant  days  of  work  and  nights 
of  worry  for  him,  and  for  me,  self-denial,  the 
sacrifice  of  all  the  little  pleasure  that  other  girls 
have  had,  all  that  makes  a  happy  girlhood.  It's  all 
I  have  in  the  world.  Isn't  it  funny  my  sitting  here 
telling  you  my  troubles,  when  I've  no  doubt  you've 
loads  of  your  own?  How's  trade?  What's  your 
line? 

Blake.    Women. 

Beth.     What? 

Blake.  Women's  suits.  (Jumps  up,  goes  to 
ticket-ivindow  facing  front)  Say,  I've  some  peachy 
samples — {Coming  to  l.  of  bench  r.)  some  almost 
Paris  styles.  Come  on  over  to  the  hotel  and  look 
them  over. 

Beth.  (Slowly)  I  don't  understand  you,  Mr. 
Blake?  I  wouldn't  think  you  the  kind  of  man  to 
misjudge  a  woman.  I'm  not  so  unconventional  as 
to  visit  you. 

Blake.  (Turning  to  front)  Tn  wrong  again — 
and  I  never  tried  harder  in  my  life  to  get  in  right. 

Beth.  It  isn't  the  return  I  expected  for  a 
hospitable  impulse.  T  don't  really  know  why  I  did 
of^'er  to  share  my  lunch  with  you  to  day,  except  that 
I've  had  so  many  lonely  Christmas's  myself. 

Blake.  (To  Beth)  Do  you  think  I  would 
meaningly  be  careless  of  your  feelings?  That 
would  be  a  snide  return  for  a  hospitality  so  kind 
that  the  recollection  of  it  will  be  with  me  every 
Christmas  of  my  life.    May  I  call  on  you? 

Beth.  (To  Blake)  You  see,  I  live  in  a  board- 
ing-house and — (Looking  front)  I  don't  know 
what  Mrs.  Tompkins  would  say  if  she  knew  how 
I  met  you.     (To  Blake)     I'd  have  to  tell  her  and 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  39 

I'm  afraid  she  wouldn't  understand.  You  see 
there's  such  a  prejudice  against 

Blake.  {Interrupting)  Against  drummers! 
{Moving  away  to  c.)     Give  a  dog  a  bad  name. 

Beth.  (Taking  basket)  But  I  don't  share  that 
prejudice;  I  know  lots  of  nice  drummers.  Why,  I 
think  you — (Crossing  to  c.) 

Blake.  (Turning  to  her)  Yes?  (She  turns 
front) 

Beth.     Oh,  nothing.     (Looking  dozvn) 

Blake.  I'd  like  to  know  just  what  you  think. 
(  Telegraph ) 

Beth.  (Moving  to  office)  Oh,  there's  the 
key ! 

Blake.  (Stands  still)  Say,  that's  a  funny  feel- 
ing—  (Hand  to  heart)  is  it  the  turkey?  (Looks  at 
bench  r.,  then  turns,  sees  Beth  at  zvindow,  she 
smiles)  Then  I  suppose  I  won't  see  you  again? 
(Going  up  to  windozv  l.,  facing  Beth) 

Beth.  Possibly — I'm  going  over  to  the  Elite  to- 
night to  call  on  my  friend  Mrs.  Babbit. 

(Enter  Crabb  r.  door  in  flat.) 

Blake.    But  I  don't  know  Mrs.  Babbit. 
Crabb.    Young  man,  you're  in  luck. 

(Blake  laughs  loudly.    Crabb  exits  to  r.  i  e.) 

Blake.    Where  is  the  Elite? 

Beth.  •  I'm  going  that  way ;  I'll  show  you,  if 
I'm  not  taking  up  too  much  of  your  time 

Blake.  Go  on,  take  as  much  as  you  like. 
(Beth  puts  on  hat,  looks  at  Blake.  Blake  going 
to  bench  puts  on  hat,  looks  at  Beth.  Puts  on  coat, 
singing:  Beth  puts  on  coat,  closes  window)  Blake, 
you've  got  it  good !  (Crossing,  picking  up  dress-suit 
case) 

Beth.     (Re-enters)     I'm  ready.    Heavy? 


40         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.    I  feel  so  good  I  could  carry  the  stove. 

Beth.  Here,  let  me  show  you.  {Puts  his 
umbrella  through  handle  of  suit  case) 

Blake.    Oh,  no! 

Beth.    Just  to  the  corner. 

Blake.  Oh,  well,  I  don't  care.  I  could  do  this 
all  day.  {Laughs.  Beth  laughs.  Royce  enters  r. 
door  flat,  comes  down  to  c.  Beth  stops.  Blake 
turns)  Hello,  Royce,  Merry  Christmas!  {Lifts 
hat  to  Royce) 

(Beth  and  Blake  exit,  laughing,  door  l.  in  flat.) 

CURTAIN. 


ACT  11. 

Scene: — Blake's  room  in  the  Elite  Hotel. 

Time  : — Christmtis  Night. 

It  is  the  typical  bedroom  of  a  village  hotel. 
Its  walls  are  covered  with  a  cheap  and  very 
ugly  striped  wall  paper.  The  woodwork — 
originally  ivhite — is  nozv  dirty  and  discolored. 
Blake  has  had  all  the  furniture,  zvith  the  ex- 
ception of  a  large  round  table  and  half  a  dozen 
chairs,  removed,  and  is  using  it  as  a  sample 
room.  At  the  rear  of  the  stage,  against  the  wall, 
and  on  either  side  of  the  door  c.  in  back  flat,  and 
against  the  wall  at  l.,  are  sample  tables  covered 
with  unbleached  muslin  on  which  are  placed  in 
neat  piles,  women's  coats  and  skirts  of  varied 
color  and  design.  To  them  are  affixed  price  tags. 
A  woman's  jacket  hangs  on  a  chair  l.,  a  second 
is  suspended  from  the  telephone  receiver,  a  third 
from  the  electric  button  r.  of  door  c,  and  a 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         41 

fourth  from  the  electric  light  bracket  on  wall  r. 
A  skirt  is  throzvn  carelessly  over  the  upper  end 
of  the  table  l.  On  the  lozver  end  of  this  table  are 
two  books  of  samples.  On  the  l.  end  of  table 
of  door  c.  is  another  skirt,  and  on  the  lid  of  the 
opened  trunk  at  r.,  is  a  woman's  tdster.  At  r.  i 
E.  and  at  r.  3  e.  are  windows  at  zvhich  are  hung 
cheap  lace  curtains.  On  zvindozv  at  r.  i  e.  is  a 
rope  attachment  for  use  as  in  the  event  of  fire. 
A  steam  radiator  stands  betzveen  the  tzvo  win- 
dozvs.  At  L.  2  is  a  door  to  Blake's  bedroom. 
The  door  at  c.  gives  on  to  the  main  hall.  The 
backing  is  covered  zvith  a  faded  red  zvall  paper. 
In  this  backing  and  exactly  opposite  the  door 
c.  to  Blake's  room  is  a  door  to  Mrs.  Babbit's 
room.  The  backing  for  this  door  represents 
the  zvall  of  another  bedroom,  covered  with 
zvall  paper.  From  the  ceiling  hangs  an  old 
fashioned  gas  chandelier  nozv  wired  for 
electricity.  On  the  zvalls  are  landscape 
"  chromos"  in  tazvdry  gilt  frames.  On  the 
back  of  the  door  is  tacked  a  card  printed  "  Rules 
of  the  Hotel".  On  the  floor  is  a  cheap 
Ingrain  carpet. 

At  rise  : — Blake  discovered  in  his  shirt-sleeves. 
He  is  smoking  a  cigar,  his  arms  full  of  clothing, 
which  has  evidently  been  taken  out  of  a  trunk  in 
bedroom. 

{Sings:  "  Nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life  as  Love's 
young  dream.") 

Blake.  Sweet  name,  Beth !  ( Goes  l.  whistling. 
There  is  a  knock  at  the  door)  Come  in.  {Throws 
skirt  on  table  l.    Goes  to  sample  table  l.) 

{Enter  Ted  Watts,  a  drummer,  several  years 
younger  than  Blake;  he  is  Blake's  best  pal. 


42         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

He  has  his  hat  tilted  over  his  eyes,  a  cigar 
stuck  in  his  mouth  at  an  angle  of  fifty-five  de- 
grees; overcoat  collar  is  turned  up;  his  hand 
deep  in  his  pocket.  He  is  a  picture  of  cold 
grouchiness.) 

Blake.  (Dozvn  l.)  Hello,  Wattsie,  Merry 
Christmas ! 

Watts.  Merry  Hell!  (He  crosses  to  radiator, 
stands  warming  his  back.  Blake  crossing  a  little 
to  c.) 

Blake.     Why  the  grouch? 

Watts.  Why  not  the  grouch  ?  How'd  you  like  to 
push  on  the  reins  for  five  miles  behind  a  frost- 
bitten skate  with  everything  from  creeping  paralysis 
to  housemaid's  knee.  Then  all  the  way  back  hold- 
ing a  couple  of  those  cute  little  trunks — (Points  to 
sample  trunks)  in  your  lap.  What  do  you  expect 
me  to  do — kiss  you?  (Blake  laughs)  Go  on — 
laugh — ha — ha — (Laughs  sarcastically) 

Blake.  I'm  mighty  sorry,  eld  man.  I  got  my 
trains  mixed. 

Watts.  (Coming  tozvard  l.  of  table  r.  c.)  That's 
a  nice  little  ingenue  excuse.  They  ought  to  send 
you  out  with  a  guide.  Where've  you  been  ?  (Com- 
ing dozvn) 

Blake,  (c.)  I've — I've  been — been  delayed. 
I've  been  looking  over  the  town. 

Watts.  Cut  that,  you've  been  buzzin'  a  girl! 
(Watts  sits  r.) 

Blake,  (c.)  No,  Watts,  not  a  girl — the  girl. 
(Turning  front) 

Watts.  (Seated)  The  girl?  Now  don't  hand 
me  that. 

Blake.    This  one's  different. 

Watts.  Same  old  wheeze :  they're  all  different 
at  the  beginning,  but  they're  pretty  much  alike  at 
the  finish. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         43 

Blake.  Who's  tossed  you?  {At  chair  l.  of 
table) 

Watts.  Now,  don't  you  lay  awake  nights  over 
any  skirt  giving  me  the  toss. 

Blake.  I  won't — I've  got  nightmares  of  my 
own.  {Crosses  to  l.  tJien  to  c.)  Won't  you  lay 
off  your  wraps  and  stay  a  while?      (c.) 

Watts.  And  freeze  to  death.  I'm  not  all 
warmed  up  by  love's  young  dream,  I'm  still  driv- 
ing !  (He  sliivers  and  goes  back  to  radiator.  Blake 
crosses  zvith  samples  to  l.  There  is  a  knock  at  the 
door) 

Blake.    Come  in. 

{Enter  Julius,  a  colored  porter.  He  is  carrying 
a  pitcher  of  ice-water.  The  ice  clinks  against 
the  pitcher.) 

Julius.  Ice  water,  sir.  {Offering  to  Blake; 
Blake  points  to  Watts.  Julius  offers  water  to 
Watts.  Watts  picks  up  chair,  and  starts  for 
Julius.  Julius  exits  keeping  eye  on  Watts,  clos- 
ing the  door  softly) 

(Blake  crossing  to  l. — laughing — throws  skirt  on 
table  L.) 

Blake.  I  see  to  that  Jasper's  house  trouble. 
Had  your  supper  ? 

Watts.  {Facing  radiator)  Everything  was  out 
when  I  struck  the  dining-room.     Had  yours? 

Blake.  Wasn't  very  hungry.  Had  the  lunch  of 
my  life  to-day. 

Watts.  In  Grand  Crossing?  W^io  staked  you? 
{Looking  at  Blake) 

Blake.  Sh — sh — little  boys  shouldn't  ask  ques- 
tions !  I  was  mighty  glad  to  get  your  wire  saying 
you'd  meet  me  here. 


44  THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN 

Watts.  Like  you  to  pick  out  this  God-forsaken 
hole.     (Moves  down  l.) 

Blake.  Oh,  it  isn't  so  forsaken.  (Song  "Oh, 
there's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life  as  love's  young 
dream")     Say,  Watts,  do  you  believe  in  love? 

Watts.  Love!  (Laughing)  Change  your 
dope. 

Blake.     Love  at  first  sight. 

Watts.  (Imitating  Blake)  Love  at  first 
sight ! 

Blake.     You're  a  natural  born  echo. 

Watts.  You've  been  reading  fairy  tales !  Love 
at  first  sight !     (Laughs) 

Blake.  Don't  encore  yourself.  (Watts  laugh- 
ing, crosses  to  r.  to  table)     No,  and  I'm  not  batty. 

Watts.    That  girl's  got  you  going. 

B.ake.     Going — I'm  gone!     (Looking  front) 

Watts.     What,  Blake,  the  prize  con? 

Blake.  The  kidder  from  Kiddersville.  Go  on, 
say  it. 

Watts.  This  is  immense ;  this  is  too  good  to 
keep!  (Starting  across  to  phone  l.)  I've  got  to 
put  the  boys  wise  to  this. 

Blake.  Any  of  the  boys  in  town?  (^.y  Watts 
goes  to  phone,  takes  down  receiver) 

Watts.  (At  phone)  Yes,  Kimball  and  old 
Cobb  are  here  doing  penance  for  their  crimes.  Is 
this  the  office?  Ask  Mr.  Kimball  and  Mr.  Cobb  to 
join  Mr.  Blake  and  Mr.  Watts.  (Louder)  Yes — 
this  room.     (Comes  to  l.  of  Blake) 

Blake.  See  here.  Watts,  I'm  strong  for  a  joke 
even  when  I'm  the  goat,  but  this  isn't  a  joke.  I'll 
stand  for  your  kidding  but  I  don't  care  to  be  joshed 
by  Kimball  and  old  Cobb.     (Turns  front) 

Watts.    Oh,  as  bad  as  that,  eh? 

Blake.  (Looking  front)  She's  the  only  thought 
in  my  head. 

Watts.  Oh,  well,  if  that's  the  way  you  feel 
about  it. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         45 

Blake.  That's  the  way  I  feel  about  it.  (Watts 
starts  to  door)  Oh,  come  on,  Watts,  now  don't  get 
huffy.  Stick  around,  the  boys  will  be  here  in  a 
minute,  and  we'll  get  up  a  little  game. 

Watts.  (Coming  down  l.)  Not  on  your  ex- 
istence. I'm  not  going  to  sit  here  an'  play  freeze 
out.  You've  induced  a  yearning  for  a  little  feminine 
society.  Wonder  if  that  little  milliner's  here?  (He 
takes  out  a  little  red  pocket  memorandum  book) 
G.  G. — Grand  Crossing — Here  it  is — Minnie  Conway 
— Main  Street — Telephone  43.  Suppose  I  call  her 
up  an'  see  if  she  hasn't  a  friend  ? 

Blake.  (Crosses  r.)  Nix  with  Minnie !  (Mov- 
ing- across  to  table  r.)  I'm  not  going  to  cheapen 
my  recollections  of  Beth  Elliott  with  any  of  your 
village  Salomes !  Watts,  for  the  first  time  in  many 
moons  I'm  jerry  to  myself.  (Leaning  against  front 
of  table) 

Watts.    How  ? 

Blake.  (Leaning  back  against  table)  She 
didn't  want  me  to  call  on  her.  I  felt  just  a  little  bit 
ashamed.  She  thought  her  landlady  might  want  to 
sidestep  a  drummer. 

Watts,  (l.  of  c.)  I  like  her  nerve  and  yours, 
too!    Ashamed  of  being  a  drummer! 

Blake.  No,  ashamed  of  myself — of  the  way 
I've  helped  to  make  the  name  "  drummer  "  stand 
for  dallying  by  the  wayside.  It's  an  awful  thing, 
Wattsie,  to  think  that  if  a  drummer  heaves  in  sight 
all  the  old  ladies  yell,  "  Run,  daughter,  the  Indians 
are  upon  us." 

Watts.  "  (Breaking  in)  Oh,  I  guess  we're  no 
worse  than  any  other  men.  What  in  blazes  are  we 
going  to  do?  Look  at  the  life  we  lead — no  home — 
no  women-folks !  (Looking  down,  with  cigar  in  r. 
hand) 

Blake.  (At  table)  I  know,  Wattsie,  it's  pretty 
hard  keepin*  a  strangle-hold  on  home-ties  when  you 
only  see  your  home  about  twice  a  year. 


46         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Watts,  (l.  c.)  That's  right.  You  don't  think 
I'm  stuck  on  this  red  book,  do  you?  But — (Putting 
it  back  in  pocket)  I  wasn't  brought  up  to  be  lone- 
some. 

Blake.  I'm  strong  for  company,  too,  (Moving 
R.  to  chair)  but  if  I  thought  I  had  half  a  chance  with 
that  girl — all  the  others  to  the  discard !  (Sis  r.  of 
table) 

Watts.  (Crossing,  sits  l.  of  table,  astride  of 
chair)     Say,  she  must  be  a  peach. 

Blake.  Peach  ?  She's  the  whole  orchard,  but  no 
goo-goo  eyes  about  her.  Just  a  sweet,  brave  little 
girl,  not  holding  down  a  job  to  get  a  few  glad  rags. 
Isn't  on  the  lookout  to  make  a  few  flash  acquaint- 
ances. Just  working  like  you  and  I  to  keep  tlie  pot 
boiling.  (Looking  front)  She  has  some  land  that's 
to  be  sold  up,  and  she's  working  to  pay  off  the 
taxes.  (Looking  at  Watts)  Can't  you  understand  ? 
I  respect  her. 

Watts.     Why  don't  you  put  up  a  talk  to  her? 

Blake.  (Back  in  chair)  I  wonder  if  she'd  be- 
lieve me  ? 

Watts.    That's  the  devil  of  having  a  reputation. 

Blake.  Yes,  Wattsie,  us  and  the  soubrettes — 
when  we  are  on  the  level  who  believes  us  ? 

Watts.    Oh,  what's  the  use !    Let's  have  a  drink — 

Blake.  Sure,  I'm  so  dry  my  hoops  are  falling 
off.     (Rise)    Tell  them  to  send  up  a  boy. 

(Watts   goes   to    telephone.     Blake   crosses   l., 
whistling.) 

Watts.  (At  phone)  This  the  office?  Send  up 
the  boy.    (Going  down  l.) 

(A  knock  at  the  door.  Enter  Kimball,  a  man  of 
about  thirty-five;  also  Cobb,  a  man  about  fifty, 
gray  hair.    They  are  very  gloomy.) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         47 

Blake.  (Shaking  hands  cordially)  Hello,  Kim- 
ball! (Kimball  goes  to  r.  above  table,  throws  hat 
on  it)  Hello,  Cobb,  you  old  sight  for  sore  eyes! 
How  goes  it?    Merry  Xmas. 

Kimball.  (Irritably)  Merry  Xmas;  what  in 
blazes  is  the  matter  with  you?  (Goes  dozvn  r.  of 
table  and  sits) 

Watts.  (Drops  down  l.)  He's  full  of  glad 
tidings. 

Cobb.  I  don't  know  the  brand,  but  me  for  it !  I 
don't  care  what  I'm  full  of,  so  I'm  full.  (Sitting 
L.  of  table) 

(A  knock  at  the  door.) 

Blake.  Come  in.     (Enter  Julius  c,  comes  c. 

Blake  c.)  I  don't  want  the  porter,  I  want  the  bell- 
boy. 

Julius.  I'se  the  bell-boy. 

Blake.  Then  send  up  a  waiter. 

Julius.  I'se  dat,  too. 

Blake.  I  guess  you're  the  whole  works? 

Julius.  I'se  the  staff  of  the  Elite. 

iBLAKE.  Drinks  for  a  large  party ! 

Julius.  Can't  serve  no  drinks,  boss. 

(Kimball,  Watts  and  Cobb  look  at  Julius.) 

Blake.    What  kind  of  a  stall  are  you  giving  me  ? 

Julius.  'Tain't  no  stall,  it's  a  solemn  fac': 
clerk   downstairs  won't  allow  it. 

Blake.  "You  go  down  and  tell  that  harp  in  the 
office  that  the  gentleman  in  25  has  a  chill ;  make  it 
four  chills. 

Julius.     The  bar  done  shut  down  last  night. 

Cobb.    Julius,  haven't  you  a  private  stock? 

Julius.  No,  sir,  I  never  drinks  durin'  office 
hours. 


48        THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  (Taking  a  half  dollar)  Julius,  what 
could  you  do  for  that  ? 

Julius.     (Grinning)     Most  anything,  sir. 
Watts.    Think — (Holding  up  half  dollar) 

(Blake  takes  Watt's  coin.) 

Kimball.  (Holding  up  half  a  dollar)  Think 
hard! 

(Cobb  takes  Kimball's  coin  l.  table.) 

Cobb.  (Holding  up  half  dollar)  Think  quickly. 
(Shaking  coitis,  etc.) 

Blake.     (Shaking  it  in  his  hands)     Listen. 

Julius.  Well,  gentlemen,  you're  all  mighty 
persuasive.  (Blake  gives  Julius  money;  Cobb 
does  same)     I  might  get  you  something. 

All.    Ah! 

Julius.    I  might  get  you  some  tea. 

Cobb.     (Turns  quickly  to  Jitlivs)    Tea! 

(Watts  jumping  forward  to  c.    Blake  holds  him. 
Julius,  frightened,  runs  up-stage.) 

Julius.  (Coming  dorvti)  I  think  you  might  all 
be  partial  to  this  brand  of  tea.  Guess  you  never 
drunk  none  a  my  Scotch  breakfast  tea.  (They  all 
laugh) 

Kimball.    Now,  you're  shouting ! 

Blake.  Vamp!  (Making  exit  door  l.,  gets 
coat) 

Watts.    And  vamp  quick. 

Cobb.    Bring  me  a  double  portion. 

(Julius  exits.    Kimball  sits  r.  of  table.) 

Watts.  (Gloomily)  Of  all  the  holes  to  spend 
Christmas  in ! 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         49 

{Crossing  up  r.  to  back  of  card-table;  takes  off  coat 
and  hat,  leaving  the>n  en  sample  tables;  going 
up  for  chair  up  r.  ) 

Kimball.  Of  all  the  hotels  to  make  you  think  of 
a  misspent  life! 

Cobb.    The  suicides'  rest ! 

Kimball.  It's  the  rottenest-run  place!  Why, 
there's  even  no  mail  delivery. 

Cobb.  I  can  put  up  with  that.  (Enter  Blake 
from  room  l.)  It's  no  drink  delivery  that  worries 
me. 

Watts.  (Bringing  chair  to  back  of  table,  and 
standing  by  it)  Now,  Kimball,  cut  out  that  rave 
about  mail ;  Cobb  and  I  have  had  it  all  day. 

Blake.  What's  the  matter,  Kimball?  Short  of 
money?  I've  a  few  loose  rags  here  I  can  loan  you. 
(Getting  out  money) 

Watts.  No,  he's  short  of  sentiment :  he  hasn't 
heard  from  home.  Oh,  these  married  men!  (Back 
of  table  and  sits) 

Blake.  Sorry,  Kimball,  couldn't  you  make  it? 
(By  chair  at  back  of  table) 

Kimball.  No,  got  snowed  in  up  the  road ;  met 
up  with  Cobb  and  came  here. 

Cobb.  Wait  until  I  see  that  man  who  recom- 
mended this  one-eyed  town. 

Kimball.  It's  the  first  Christmas  I've  been  away 
from  the  little  woman. 

\\'atts.  Then  what  are  you  kicking  about  ?  It's 
so  long  since  I've  been  home  on  Christmas. 

Blake.  {After  a  pause)  Oh,  well,  boys,  they're 
thinking  abotit  us!  (Pokes  Cobb  in  back.  To 
Cobb)  Well,  old  boots  and  shoes,  how  goes  it? 
(Sits) 

Cobb.     Oh,  not  so  worse;  how  are  the  ladies? 

Blake.    Styles  still  changing,  thank  God.    (Sits) 

Cobb.     (Loudly)     Say,  where's  that  boy? 

Julius.     (Off-stage)     Here  comes  de  boy,  here 


50         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

comes  de  boy !  (Enter  with  tray  and  cups,  seltzer 
bottle  and  ivhiskey  in  teapot) 

Blake.    Julius,  get  the  cigars. 

Julius.    Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir.     (Exits  l.) 

Kimball.     (To  Blake)    Going  to  sell  this  town? 

Blake.  Hardly.  (Business  looking  in  teapot, 
etc.;  all  laugh)  Drury  has  a  man  down  here. 
(Pouring  tea)  I've  really  brought  down  a  bunch  of 
truck  for  him  to  look  over.  Say,  you  must  know 
our  man  here :  Royce. 

Kimball.  Royce?  Franklin  Royce ?  There  must 
he  has  the  meal-ticket  privilege  here. 

Watts.  Let's  have  him  in.  I  don't  like  him.  but 
we're  a  man  shy.  Call  him  up,  Blake,  it's  your 
party.     You're  friends,  aren't  you? 

Blake.  Just  as  chummy  as  a  pair  of  panthers. 
(To  Julius,  7vho  enters  l.  with  box  of  cigars  and 
ash-tray,  putting  them  on  table)    Julius ! 

Julius.    Yes,  sir? 

Blake.    Does  Mr.  Royce  live  here? 

Julius.  (Coming  c.)  He  doesn't  exactly  live 
here :  he  has  a  room  over  Mrs.  Stratton's  store,  but 
he  has  the  meal-ticket  privilege  here. 

All.    Poor  Royce ! 

Blake.  Well,  you  run  across  and  tell  him  "Mr. 
Blake  and  some  friends  would  like  to  have  him  come 
over  here.     (Throws  Julius  a  coin) 

Julius.  (At  door,  bites  coin,  Blake  catches  him. 
Quick  exit)     Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir. 

(The  men  drazv  up  to  table.) 

Blake.  (Ladylike  manner.  With  cup  in  his 
hand — to  Watts)     Two  lumps,  Clara. 

Watts.     (Same  manner)     No  thanks,  Maud. 

(Blake  fills  out  cup  with  seltzer.) 

Blake.  (Same  manner.  To  Cobb)  How  will 
you  have  yours,  dearest? 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  51 

Cobb.     (Same  manner)     Strong,  damn  you! 
(Blake  fills  tip  a  cup  for  Cobb.) 

Blake.      {Fills  up   cup  for  Kimball;   Watts 
takes  it.    To  Watts)    Pass  this  to  the  chaperone. 

Watts.     {To  Kimball)     Here,  you  old  hen. 
{Putting  cup  beside  Kimball) 

Cobb.    Drink  it,  Kimball ;  it's  good  for  what  ails 
you. 

Blake.     If  you  haven't  got  it,  it  will  give  it  to 
you. 

Watts.    To  us,  God  help  us ! 

Blake.    To  us,  who's  like  us — damn  few ! 

All.    To  us  !    {All  drink) 

Kimball.    To  the  absent,  God  Bless  'em! 

All.    {All  drink)    To  the  absent! 

(Blake  fills  cup.) 

Kimball.     Mighty    funny    I   didn't   hear   from 
home! 

Cobb.    He's  ofiF  again. 

Blake.     {Filling  up  cups  again  zvith  tea) 

Here's  to  the  man  who  loves  his  wife, 
And  loves  his  wife  alone. 
For  many  a  man  loves  another  man's  wife, 
When  he  ought  to  be  loving  his  own. 

{All  drink  to  Kimball.) 

Kimball.     Here,  you're  getting  one  in  on  me. 
{Taking  his  cup) 

Here's  to  good  old  whiskey, 

So  amber  and  so  clear. 

It's  not  so  sweet  as  a  woman's  lips. 

But  a  blamed  sight  more  sincere. 


52         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Cobb.    You  old  reprobate ! 
Blake.    Trying  to  square  yourself ! 
Watts.    Oh,  that's  one  of  those  good  husbands' 
bluffs.    Blake,  this  is  for  you. 

Here's  to  the  man  who  stops  to  pause. 
Before  he  takes  a  wife. 
In  fact  I  see  no  earthly  cause, 
Why  he  shouldn't  pause  for  life. 

Blake.     (Rising)     Coming  right  back  at  you. 

Here's  to  the  girl  I  love, 

I  wish  that  she  were  nigh ! 

If  drinking  this  would  bring  her  here, 

I'd  drink  the  whole  place  dry. 

Cobb,    You're  getting  mushy ! 

Here's  to  all  good  fellows. 

We  go  out  of  this  world,  we  know  not  where. 

But  if  we're  good  fellows  here. 

We'll  be  thoroughbreds  there. 

(Starts  to  sing.) 

We're  all  such  jolly  good  fellows 

(They  all  join  in.  The  song  began  in  a  loud  jolly 
key,  gradually  dying  out.  They  all  sit  staring 
in  front  of  them  gloomily.    A  pause.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Off)  Is  this  the  office?  Has  a 
respectable  woman  to  be  kept  awake  all  night  by  a 
pack  of  drunken  rowdies ! 

(All  laugh.) 

Blake.    All  right,  sister,  we'll  be  good. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         53 

{There  is  a  knock  heard  off-stage  center.) 

Kimball.  This  is  no  place  for  a  minister's  son ! 
(Crosses  to  r.) 

(Cobb  places  cup  on  tray;  crosses  to  r.  of  table. 
Watts  crossing  to  l.  by  c.  door.  Knock. 
Blake  goes  to  door  and  throws  it  open.  Beth 
Elliott  is  standing  knocking  at  Mrs.  Babbit's 
door  across  the  hall.    Beth  turns.) 

Blake.    Oh,  good-evening,  Miss  Elliott. 

Beth.  Good-evening,  Mr.  Blake.  {They  shake 
hands) 

Watts.  It's  the  girl  at  the  depot ;  he's  bug- 
house about  her. 

Blake.  I'm  afraid  we've  disturbed  your  friend, 
Mrs.  Babbit. 

(Beth  knocks  again.    Mrs.  Babbit  appears.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Oh,  it's  you,  deary, 

(Blake  points  to  tray  on  table.) 

Watts.    {Pointing)    Cobb,  the  tray. 

(Cobb  snatches  coat  from  trunk,  covers  tray  with  it.) 

Beth.  {Outside)  Mrs.  Babbit,  let  me  present 
Mr.  Blake.. 

Blake.  I'm  sorry  we  annoyed  you.  Won't  you 
come  in  and  let  my  friends  apologize.  (Blake  and 
Mrs.  Babbit  enter.  Beth  stays  in  door)  Boys, 
this  is  Mrs.  Babbit — Mrs.  Babbit,  Mr.  Watts,  Mr. 
Kimball,  Mr.  Cobb. 

(Cobb,  who  has  grabbed  the  seltzer  siphon,  hides  it 


54         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

behind  his  back  as  he  makes  deep  bow,  then 
hides  it  behind  trunk.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Coming  down  a  little)  Pleased 
to  meet  you. 

Kimball.  Afraid  our  Christmas  carols  annoyed 
you. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    That's  all  right,  gentlemen. 

Blake.  (To  Beth  in  c.  door)  Won't  you  come 
in?    (Beth  enters)    Miss  Elliott,  the  boys 

Beth.  Pleased  to  meet  the  boys.  (Sees  coat  over 
tray)    Oh,  what  lovely  clothes  ! 

(Watts  grabs  skirt  off  table  back  l.,  holds  it  up, 
attracting  Mrs.  Babbit's  attention.  Kimball 
picks  up  coat  on  back  of  chair  l.  Brushes  it. 
Cobb  rushes  up  back  of  table,  grabs  skirt,  comes 
dozvn  L.  of  table,  intercepts  Beth  and  displays 
skirt  to  her.) 

Blake.    Guess  it's  a  pretty  good  line. 
Beth.     (Turning  to  Blake)     Don't  you  know? 
Cobb.     You  don't  have  to  know  anything  about 
goods  to  sell  'em. 

(Blake  bows  to  Cobb.) 

Blake.  Mrs.  Babbit,  it  was  very  rude  of  me  to 
call  you  sister,  but  now  that  I've  seen  you,  I  wish  I 
had  that  privilege. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Ain't  you  awful  ?  (Makes  playful 
slap  at  Blake.    Blake  imitates  her) 

Watts.  (To  Kimball)  He  could  talk  a  duck 
off  the  water. 

Beth.  Oh,  isn't  this  a  dear?  (Starts  for  coat 
on  table  again) 

Blake.  (Getting  blue  skirt  from  sample  table 
back,  coming  down  c.)     Now,  I  like  blue. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         55 
(Watts  showing  skirt  on  himself.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {To  Blake)  Are  you  wearing 
hobble  skirts  in  New  York  ? 

Blake.     Yes,  and  we  look  great  in  'em. 

Mrs.  Babbit.     You're  a  terrible  cut-up. 

Blake.  Now,  sister — {Throwing  blue  skirt  up 
back  on  sample  table) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I'm  having  a  three-piece  suit 
made.  I  always  design  my  own  clothes.  {Going 
down-stage  c.  Kimball  laughs  loudly.  Mrs. 
Babbit  gives  him  a  look  attd  he  stops) 

Blake.     Is  that  one  of  your  creations? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Oh,  it's  just  a  little  thing  I  run 
up.     {Walks  lip  and  dozvn  stage  displaying  gown) 

Watts.    You're  certainly  a  grand  Httle  designer. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Oh,  Mr.  Watts ! 

Beth.  It  isn't  really  anything  to  what  she  can 
do. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Now,  Beth. 

Blake.     I'd  like  to  see  her  when  she  gets  going. 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Oh,  Mr.  Blake ! 

Julius.     {Enters)     Here  is  your  tea,  gentlemen. 

(Mrs.  Babbit  ayid  Beth  turn  to  look  at  JuliuSv 
Cobb  snatches  a  coat  off  sample  table  attracts 
Beth's  attention.  Watts  grasps  Mrs.  Babbit's 
arm  rushes  her  dozvn  to  L.,  grabs  coat  from 
Kimball,  then  using  Kimball  as  model;  Kim- 
ball puts  right  arm  through  coat,  Mrs.  Babbit 
admires  it.) 

Blake.    Tea — who  ordered  tea?    Take  it  away! 

{Throzving  Julius  out.    Whispers)     Bring  it  back 

later. 

Julius.    Yes,  sir, — yes,  sir.     {Exits) 

Mrs.  Babbit.     Mr.  Blake,  you  haven't  anything 

in  a  middk-aged  Fluffy  Ru#Jes. 


56         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

(Blake  nearly  falls  backward.) 

Blake.  Why,  yes,  in  the  other  room.  Watts, 
show  Mrs.  Babbit  my  hne  of  Fluffy  Ruffles.  There 
are  several  that  would  just  suit  your  ready-to-wear 
figure. 

(Watts,  furious,  throws  skirt  on  table  l.  Kimball 
amused.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I'd  certainly  like  to  inspect  them, 
Mr.  Blake,  but  I  don't  know  that  it  would  be  hardly 
proper. 

Watts.  Oh,  quit  your  kidding,  sister.  (Mrs. 
Babbit  exits  door  r.) 

Blake.  Kimball,  go  in  and  chaperone  Mrs. 
Babbit.  (Kimball,  furious,  throws  coat  on  table  l. 
Cobb  laughs  loudly)  Cobb,  you  chaperone  them, 
too. 

(Watts  laughs.    Cobb  and  Kimball  exit  door  l., 
glaring  at  Blake.) 

Watts.    Say,  what  are  you  giving  me  ? 

(Blake  pushes  Watts  off.    All  exit.) 

Blake.    (Coming  c.)    You're  on,  eh? 
Beth.    I'm  not  blind. 

Blake.  I've  simply  got  to  have  a  half  a  minute 
alone  with  you. 

Beth.    Then  time's  up. 

Blake.    I  was  afraid  you  weren't  coming. 

Beth.    Were  you  really  ? 

Blake.    No,  I  knew  you  would. 

Beth.     (Coming  down  a  little)    Oh,  did  you? 

Blake.    I'm  clean  foolish  about  you. 

Beth.    (She  moves  coat  from  over  tray,  crossing 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN  57 

to  R.  frotit  of  tabic)  Oh,  isn't  this  a  love  !  (Crossing 
to  table)     I  adore  red.     {Turning  round  right) 

Blake.     So  do  L 

Beth.  But  you  said  you  Hked  blue?  {Picking 
up  coat  sees  cups) 

Blake.  (Well,  it  makes  a  difference  who's  wear- 
ing blue  !  (Beth  picks  up  the  cup  and  looks  over  the 
brim  at  him,  laughing)  \\^e  were  having  a  cup  of 
tea. 

Beth.     {Smelling  cup)     Tea? 

Blake.  Oh,  well,  the  boys  were  blue  and  I 
wanted  to  cheer  them  up  with  a  dash  of  red.  Away 
from  home,  you  know. 

Beth.  {Putting  dozen  cup)  I  don't  blame  them. 
(Turing  front) 

Blake.  Do  you  know  you're  an  awful  under- 
standing kind  of  a  girl.  (Going  over  tozvards  her) 
I  guess  I  never  woke  up  until  to-day  to  what  it  means 
to  have  a  home  and  somebody  you  liked  pretty  well 
— passing  things  across  the  table  to  you.  It  must  be 
great  as  a  steady  diet ! 

Beth.     Do  you  mind  if  I  try  on  this  coat? 

Blake.  Do  I  mind  ?  Try  on  the  bunch ;  can  I 
help  you?     (He  hands  her  the  coat) 

Beth.  Thanks.  It  is  lovely,  isn't  it?  (Picking 
up  sample  coat,  holding  it  betzveen  them) 

Blake.  It  isn't  a  marker  to  what  it  will  be  on ! 
Allow  me !     (Helping  her  on  zvith  coat) 

Beth.  Thanks.  Oh,  I  do  love  pretty  things. 
(Looking  at  Blake) 

Blake.     So  do  I. 

Beth.    Do  you?     (Looks  dozvn — she  turns  azvay 

R.) 

Blake.  Crazy  about  them.  It's  mighty  becoming 
to  you. 

Beth.  Do  you  think  so?  (Turns)  Why,  if  it 
weren't  for  those  old  taxes,  I  might  buy  it.  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan!  (Moving  tozvards  Blake, 
taking  off  coat ;  Blake  helps  her) 


58         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  (Laying  coat  on  table,  back  to  audience) 
You're  mighty  plucky  to  resist  all  the  temptations  of 
pretty  clothes  and  make  a  fight  for  your  land.  How 
much  do  you  owe  on  it  ? 

Beth.  You're  the  second  man  who's  asked  me 
that  to-day.    Air.  Royce 

Blake.  (Interrupting)  Royce,  what  has  he  got 
to  do  with  it  ? 

Beth.    Oh,  nothing. 

Blake.    You  aren't  going  to  let  hitn  help  you? 

Beth.    I  don't  need  anyone's  help. 

Blake.  Aren't  you  afraid  someone  might  buy  it 
in  to-morrow  ? 

Beth.    I  won't  lose  my  beauty-sleep  over  that. 

Blake.  I've  been  thinking  an  awful  lot  about 
you,  have  you? 

Beth.  Thinking  about  myself.  I'm  not  a  bit  con- 
ceited.    (Moving  away,  right) 

Blake.    I  meant  about  me. 

Beth.    About  you? 

Blake.  Well,  what  have  you  been  doing  since  I 
saw  you  last? 

Beth.  (Over  near  table  r.)  As  that  was  only 
a  few  hours  ago 

Blake.  Is  it  ?  It  seems  longer.  That  was  a  great 
walk  we  had  to-day.  What  are  you  going  to  do  to- 
morrow ? 

Beth.    Work. 

Blake.  I  don't  suppose  we  could  have  another 
cozy  little  chat.  I'm  not  very  gabby  as  a  rule — 
(She  gives  him  a  look  as  if  contradicting  him) — but 
I  like  to  talk  to  you.  Did  you  ever  feel  you  had 
known  somebody,  you  had  just  met,  for  years  and 
years  and  years  ? 

Beth.    Yes,  once 

Blake.  (Anxiously  turning  to  her)  Who — 
Royce  ? 

Beth.  No:  Mrs.  Babbit.  (Blake  leans  against 
table  in  relief)    1  liked  her  the  minute  I  saw  her. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         59 

Blake.  (Walks  up  to  l.  c.)  It  never  happened 
to  me  before.  {Turning  front)  Say,  do  you  believe 
in  love  at  first  sight  ? 

Beth.  Yes,  my  mother  fell  in  love  with  father 
that  way.     {Comes  to  table) 

Blake.  {Going  quickly  to  table,  only  part  zvay) 
I'd  have  liked  your  mother. 

Beth.     They  were  married  in  a  week's  time. 

Blake.  I'd  have  liked  your  father,  too.  {Land- 
ing by  her  at  table)  He's  just  my  kind  of  man.  I 
always  knew  it  would  strike  me  this  way.  How  do 
you  feel  about  it  ? 

Beth.    About  what  ? 

Blake.    What  we  were  talking  about? 

Beth,    Oh,  the  coat.     {Picking  it  up) 

Blake.  The  coat.''  No.  {Taking  coat  from  hevL. 
of  table — throwing  it  on  chair)     I  mean  love. 

Beth.    Were  we  talking  about  love? 

Blake.    I've  been  doing  my  level  best. 

Beth.    Why,  are  you  in  love? 

Blake.    Aren't  you  ? 

Beth.    With  whom? 

Blake.    His  name  begins  with  B. 

Beth.    Why,  Mr.  Blake !     {Turning  away  to  it.) 

Blake.  {Coming  to  her)  You've  guessed  it. 
Make  it  Bob,  won't  you  ? 

Beth.     I  think  I  should  be  going  home 

Blake.    Oh,  what's  your  hurry  ? 

Beth.     Won't  you  give   me  my   coat,   please? 

(Blake  takes  coat  from  table.    Assists  her  to  put 
it  on.) 

Blake.    Why,  you  aren't  mad,  are  you? 

(Beth  looks  down  shyly.     A  knock  at  the  door. 
Royce  enters  on  knock.) 

Royce.    Oh,  I'm  afraid  I'm  in  the  way? 


6o         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.      {Turning    sharply    on    him)      You— 
(Beth  stops  Blake.    Pause.) 

Beth.  Mrs.  Babbit — Mrs.  Babbit — {Coming 
to  c.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    {Off)    Yes,  dearie? 

Beth.  {Going  up  r.  to  sample  table)  I  think 
we  had  better  go. 

{Enter  Mrs.  Babbit,  followed  by  Watts,  Cobb  and 
Kimball.  Blake  takes  coat  from  chair  l.  of 
table. ) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Oh,  they've  the  grandest  clothes — 
{Crossing  to  r.,  snubbing  Royce) 

Watts.  Hello,  Royce — you've  met  Kimball? 
You  know  Cobb — {Going  down  l.  Kimball  and 
Cobb  shake  hands  with  Royce)  Glad  we  got  you: 
we  needed  another  hand  for 

Blake.  {Interrupting  r.  of  table;  snapping 
fingers)     Old  maid ! 

Royce.    I'm  afraid  I  can't  join  you. 

Watts.    Sure  you  can,  eh,  Blake  ? 

(Blake  turns  as  though  to  say  "  No  ".    Beth  looks 
at  him.) 

Blake.  I  hope  Royce  will  give  us  the  pleasure  of 
his  company,    {Crossing  to  r.  putting  coat  on  trunk) 

Beth.  {To  Blake)  Good-night.  {Going  to 
door  c. — to  others)     Good-night,  gentlemen. 

Cobb.    No  :  **  boys  "  to  us 

Beth.  Well,  good-night,  boys — {Exits  c.  door 
and  into  Mrs.  Babbit's  room — snubbing  Royce) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Starting  to  go  c.  door)  Good- 
night, boys. 

All.    Good-night,  sister. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         6i 

Mrs.  Babbit  (Stops)  Oh,  I've  something  you 
might  use  in  that  game  of  Old  Maid. 

Blake.    Yes  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Mr.  Babbit  left  me  a  real  nice  lot 
of  poker  chips.    {Exits  c.  door — all  laugh) 

(RoYCE  is  taking  off  overcoat.) 

Blake.  Kimball,  will  you  get  the  cards  ?  You'll 
find  chips  on  the  dresser. 

(Exit  Kimball  door  l.) 

Cobb.  Let's  get  comfortable.  ( Takes  off  coat  and 
cuffs,  putting  them  on  sample  table  l.) 

Watts.  Comfortable,  got  any  ear  mufTs ?  {Wip- 
ing off  table)    Where  will  I  put  this  booze? 

Blake.  Put  it  handy.  (Brings  table  down — 
Watts  puts  tray  on  small  table,  back) 

Cobb.     (Going  to  phone)     Anything  left,  Watts? 

Watts.  If  I  squeeze  it  a  little.  (Looking  in  tea- 
pot)   Have  a  drink,  Royce? 

RoYCE.  I've  had  a  few,  but  still  I  don't  mind 
another  one.  (Staggers.  Coming  down  and  round 
R  of  table,  he  sits) 

(Blake  and  Watts  watch  him.) 

Watts.     (To  Blake)     Quite  a  bun 

Blake.  Bun,  he's  carrying  the  whole  bakery! 
{Lighting  cigar.  During  Cobb's  phone.  Watts  pours 
out  drink  for  Royce) 

Cobb.  Is  this  the  office?  Oh,  that  you,  Julius? 
Tea  for  five.     (Crossing  to  card-table) 

Watts.  If  you  don't  mind  my  cup.  (Crossing 
round  to  R.  of  card-table,  putting  cup  at  Royce's 
place) 

Blake.    What's  it  going  to  be,  all  Jacks  ? 


62         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

(Kimball  enters,  bringing  chips  and  cards;  gets 
chair  and  carries  it  to  table.) 

Cobb.  No,  make  it  straight  poker,  ten  cent  ante. 
(Lights  cigar) 

Watts.    Fifty  cent  limit. 

RoYCE.    Suits  me. 

Kimball.  (Sits)  I'm  on.  Who's  banker? 
(Gives  Blake  chips) 

Blake.     (Begins  to  take  out  chips)     I'll  bank. 

RoYCE.    Got  any  new  stories,  Watts  ? 

Watts.  (Taking  cards  out  of  case)  Heard  the 
one  about  the  chorus  girl  and  the  million  dollar 
legacy  ? 

RoYCE.    New  to  me. 

Blake.  Nix,  they  might  hear  you  across  the 
hall.     (Gives  chips  to  Kimball) 

Watts.  (Looks  at  transom,  etc.)  All  right. 
(Lozvering  his  voice)  Some  chorus  girls  talking  in 
a  dressing  room 

Blake.  (Interrupting)  Cut  it  out.  I  haven't  got 
a  laugh  left  in  me  for  one  of  your  funny  stories. 
(Gives  chips  to  Cobb) 

Watts.  Oh,  very  well !  Cobb,  will  you  lead  us 
in  prayer. 

(Blake  gives  chips  to  Royce — all  laugh.) 

RoYCE.  This  is  like  old  times.  Haven't  played  in 
so  long.     (Chip  to  Watts) 

Cobb.  Kind  of  hanker  for  the  road,  eh?  (Count- 
ing chips) 

RoYCE.     (Counting  chips)     Occasionally. 

Watts.  (Counting  chips)  Oh,  it's  a  glad  bad 
career ! 

Blake.  This  leading  the  sample  life.  (Puts  chip 
box  on  floor.    Others  groan  at  the  pun) 

(Kimball  counts  chips.) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         63 

Cobb.  (Sittiiig  back  in  chair)  Still  working  for 
that  old  pirate  Drury? 

Blake.  (Making  record  of  cJiips  on  envelope) 
See  here,  Cobb,  Drury  hardly  runs  in  the  pirate  class  ; 
he  makes  money  but  he  does  a  lot  of  good. 

Cobb.    Yes,  he  does  a  lot  and  does  'em  good. 

Blake.     He's  always  been  on  the  level  with  me. 

Cobb.  It's  to  his  interest,  then.  iMartin  and  I 
sold  goods  together  and,  well — I  wouldn't  bank  on 
him — it's  money  first,  last  and  always  with  Martin. 

RoYCE.  l^.Ir  iDrury  will  be  here  to-morrow.  Why 
don't  you  stay  over  and  reminisce  together  ?  (Makes 
bad  pronunciation) 

Cobb.  No,  Martin  and  I  have  gone  different  ways, 
and  some  of  the  recollections  might  be  painful. 

Blake.  {Throzving  cards  around  face  up.  Three 
queens  should  come  up  in  the  deal)  First  Jack 
deals. 

Watts.  (After  first  five  cards  arc  dealt)  Who 
pinched  the  Jacks  ? 

Blake.  Don't  seem  to  be  anything  in  this  deck 
but  typewriters !  (Deals  to  Royce.  Jack  appears) 
Your  cards,  Royce ;  let's  open  v.'ith  a  Jack  anyway. 

All.  All  right.  (All  ante  one  zvhite  chip,  except 
Kimball) 

Cobb.    Everybody  up. 

Watts.    Oh,  put  up.  Kimball,  put  ut). 

Blake.  Come  on,  Kimball,  decorate  the  mahog- 
any. 

Kimball.    Excuse  me.     (Puts  in  one  zvhite  chip) 

Cobb.  Yes,  siree.  Martin's  a  wise  old  owl — used 
to  play  a  bully  game.  (Royce  puts  cards  over  for 
Cobb  to  cut  them)  Royce.  did  you  start  with  Drury  ? 
(Cutting  cards) 

Royce.  Yes,  Blake  and  T  started  with  him  about 
the  same  time.     (Starts  to  deal) 

Blake.    Oh,  he's  Martin's  white-haired  boy. 

Watts.    Why  didn't  you  cuddle  up  to  him? 


64         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  When  it  comes  to  cuddlin'  up  to  the  boss 
I'm  a  few  chips  shy. 

RoYCE.    Dritry  thinks  a  great  deal  of  Blake. 

Blake.    That's  real  sweet  of  Drury. 

RoYCE.  Blake  wasn't  handed  as  good  a  territory 
as  me. 

Blake.  And  my  business  methods  didn't  make 
as  much  of  a  hit  with  the  firm  as  yours.  (Puts  cigar 
on  tray.    Royce  finishes  deal) 

RoYCE.  The  firm  think  very  well  of  you,  Blake. 
(Turns,  facing  audience) 

Watts.  Why  don't  you  have  that  little  testimonial 
framed  ? 

Blake.  (Looking  at  cards)  Good  idea.  "  To 
whom  it  may  concern :  The  bearer,  Robert  Blake, 
has  always  been  sober,  industrious,  neat  in  appear- 
ance, and  (Looking  over  cards  at  Royce)  kept  his 
hands  clean." 

(All  have  cards  up.  Looking  at  them  they  exchange 
glances.  Royce,  noticing  it,  looks  at  Blake. 
Blake  is  oblivious.) 

Watts.    ( i  red)    Me  for  it. 

Blake,     (i  red)     I'll  trail. 

Cobb.  (Noticing  Kimball  who  does  not  come 
in)    Well 

Blake.  (Softly)  Sh — don't  wake  him — (Yells 
in  his  ear)     Oh,  Kimball! 

Kimball,    (i  red)    I'll  come  in. 

Cobb,     (i  red)     I'm  there. 

Royce.     (it' 
(Dealing  again) 

Watts.    Three. 

Blake.  To  my  house  a  dark  man  with  a  bundle — 
(All  laugh)    An  ace,  please. 

Kimball.    Two. 

Co«B.  (In  reminiscint  vein)  The  last  game  I  sat 
in  was  in  Tacoma 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         65 

Blake,  (interrupting)  But  we're  in  Grand 
Crossing.    Git  ap, 

Cobb.     {Angrily)    Three. 

RoYCE.    Three  to  the  dealer ! 

Watts,    (i  red)    This  looks  good  to  muh. 

Blake.  I  don't  mind  contributing  a  little  bird 
seed,  (i  red.  Pause — all  notice  Kimball)  Oh, 
Kimball,  do  you  want  to  play  poker,  or  sleep? 
Make  up  your  mind. 

Kimball,    That's  what  I'm  doing. 

Watts.  Don't  annoy  him,  Blake,  he's  got  such 
a  lot  of  mind  to  make  up.     (Laugh  from  others) 

Kimball.     (2  reds)    Just  for  that,  buck  this. 

Cobb.  Since  you  urge  me,  gentlemen.  (3 
reds) 

RoYCE.    I'm  out.     (Throws  down  hand) 

Watts.    Oh,  crullers !    (  Throws  down  hand) 

Blake,  Oh,  this  is  as  easy  as  stealing  a  dog 
license  from  a  pup!  Once  again,  please.  (2  blue 
chips.  Pause — all  impatient.  To  Kimball)  Oh, 
come  on,  Philadelphia, 

Kimball.  I'll  raise.  Got  any  more  of  that  bird 
seed?    (3  blues) 

Cobb,  Oh,  if  you  want  a  sprint  for  your  money, 
I'll  go  you  all  one  better.     (4  blues) 

Blake.  You've  got  my  tag.  (Throws  down 
cards) 

Kimball.  I've  got  the  habit.  I'll  tilt  you  once 
more.     (2  blues) 

Cobb.  Let's  see  your  picture-book.  What' ve  you 
got?    (i  blue) 

Kimball.    Kings  up. 

Cobb.    Kings  up  here.    What's  next. 

Kimball,    Sevens. 

Cobb.  Fours.  ( Throws  cards  on  table — all  laugh 
etc.) 

Blake,    Suckers. 

Watts.  My  card.  Let's  make  *em  all  Jacks. 
(Shuffling) 


66         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

All.  All  right.  {All  chip  i  white  except  Kiif- 
ball) 

RoYCE.    Kimball,  going  to  sell  this  town  ? 

(Blake  picks  up  cigar.) 

Kimball.  Don't  believe  they'd  be  interested  in 
rubber  goods. 

Watts.  (Shuffling  cards)  I  think  some  of  those 
London  checks  might  just  hit  Grand  Crossing's 
natty  dressers. 

Blake.    Grand  Crossing's  getting  natty,  eh  ? 

Watts.  Natty !  You  should  have  seen  the  line 
of  fancy  hosiery  and  neckwear  I  planted. 

Cobb.    Lots  of  loose  change,  eh? 

Watts.  Worse  than  that.  Steinberg  laid  in  a 
line  of  pyjamas.     (Places  cards  for  Royce) 

Cobb.  (Royce  cuts  cards)  Rubes  in  pyjamas! 
{All  laugh) 

Kimball.    You  ought  to  be  selling  gold  bricks. 

Blake.    Where  do  they  get  it  ? 

(Watts  begins  to  deal.) 

Cobb.  Grand  Crossing.  Isn't  there  a  boom  on 
down  here  ?  I  heard  the  railway  was  going  to  put  in 
a  spur  or  something. 

Watts.    These  yaps  don't  know  that. 

Royce.  (Turning  towards  Cobb)  Where'd  yew 
hear  that,  Cobb? 

Cobb,  One  of  the  road  surveyors  was  telling  me 
the  other  day.    Looks  good  for  you,  Royce. 

(Watts  finishes  deal) 

Royce.    (Anxiously)    What  do  you  mean,  Cokb? 
Cobb.    Ought  to  help  trade. 
Royce.    (Smiles)    Oh — (Sitting  back  in  chair) 
Blake.    Kimball,  hand  me  a  match. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         67 

Kimball.    Move,  and  change  my  luck. 

Cobb.  {Throws  down  cards)  No  wonder  I'm 
up  against  it:  I  got  my  left  shoe  laced.  {Unties 
lace) 

Watts.  Well,  my  luck  can't  be  worse,  still — 
{Getting  up  and  walking  around  chair)  every  little 
bit  helps.  {He  looks  at  cards)  Oh,  Lord !  {He 
gets  lip  and  runs  rapidly  around  the  chair  several 
times  in  the  other  direction) 

Blake.  Sit  down — sit  down — you  make  me 
dizzy!  (i  blue)  I'll  bust  this  for  fifty  cents. 
{Rises  to  turn  for  drinks  on  table) 

Cobb.    Who's  shy? 

Blake.  {Takes  one  zvhite  chip  from  Kimball's 
pile)     Kimball,  would  you  like  to  leave  a  call? 

{All  laugh.) 

Cobb.     Lucky  you  aren't  playing  in  Tacoma! 

{All  chip  I  blue  as  they  draw.) 

Kimball,    (i  blue)    Two. 

Cobb,     (i  blue)     Three. 

RoYCE.     (i  blue)     Same  here. 

Blake.    How  many  did  the  dealer  take? 

Watts,    (i  blue)    Three. 

Blake.  It's  as  good  as  -it  was  before.  I'll  bet 
fifty  cents,     (i  blue) 

Kimball.  {Quickly)  I'll  stick  and  then  some. 
(2  blues) 

Blake.  Bully  for  Kimball!  That  was  nice  and 
quick. 

Cobb.  {Reminiscing  again)  Now,  that's  funny 
— I  sat  in  a  game 

Blake.     {Interrupting)     We  know,  in  Tacoma. 

Cobb.     {Angrily.    2  blues)     Oh,  well,  I'm  there. 

RoYCE.  Well,  I  guess  it's  worth  another  dollar. 
(3  blues) 


68        THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

(Watts  comes  in.   Julius  enters  with  tray  and  five 
cups — one  to  break.) 

Cobb.     {To  Julius)     Well,  it's  about  time. 

Blake.  Julius,  speed  that  booze  around.  Boys, 
I'll  just  raise  that  five  hundred  dollars.  (Winks  at 
boys,  etc. — all  amused)     How  are  you,  Julius? 

(Julius   astounded,   puts   cup   down.     Blake    i 
white.) 

Kimball.  Cobb,  if  you  want  any  of  this  it  will 
cost  you  two  of  those  five-hundred  dollars  boys.  (2 
whites)    Good-evening,  Julius. 

(Julius  puts  dozvn  cup — more  amazed;  goes  round 
to  R.  of  card-table  with  cup  for  Royce.) 

Cobb.  Oh,  don't  be  a  piker.  Why  don't  you  bet 
something?  We'll  make  it  an  even  two  thousand. 
How  de  do,  Julius?  (4  whites — Julius  confused 
starts  out  window,  then  goes  up  back  of  table  to  r.) 

(Royce  and  Watts  lay  down  cards.) 

Blake,  (i  blue)  I  hate  this  playing  with  chil- 
dren. This  chip  means  five  thousand  nine  hundred 
and  ninety-nine. 

(Julius  starts  to  give  cup  to  Cobb.  It  falls  from, 
his  hand,  breaks;  picks  it  up  and  places  it  on 
tray,  then  comes  c.) 

Kimball.  Now  you're  begining  to  play.  That 
and  another  thousand.    (2  blues) 

Cobb.  How  much  is  there  ?  What  a  stingy  little 
pot !    Not  worth  taking. 

(Julius  staggers,  almost  falsi,  and  starts  to  door.) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         69 

Blake.  Julius,  come  here,  if  you  had  this  hand 
what  would  you  do? 

(Julius  looks  at  Blake's  hand  and  then  Kim- 
ball's.) 

Julius.  I  certainly  would  hesitate.  {Exits.  At 
door  he  points  to  Kimball's  hand.  Kimball 
catches  him;  quick  exit) 

{All  laugh.) 

Blake.    Kimball,  what  you  got? 

Kimball.     All  blue. 

Blake.  You  win.  Losers  push.  {Pushing  chips 
to  Kimball) 

Beth.      {Off-stage)      Good-night,   Mrs.   Babbit. 

Mrs.  Babbit.     {Off-stage)     Good-night,  dearie. 

Blake.  {Notes  the  "good-night"  smiles)  My 
cards.     {Sighs  loudly) 

Cobb.  Royce,  what  are  you  hanging  around  here 
for?     {Puts  in  white  chip) 

RoYCE.  {Putting  in  white  chip)  I'm  in  on  a 
pretty  good  thing. 

Cobb.    So  ? 

{All  put  white  chips  in.) 

Royce.     I've  got  some  inside  information. 

Watts.  Look  out:  I  had  some  inside  informa- 
tion about  some  stock  that  was  going  to  make  me  a 
Captain  of  Industry,  and  I  am  still  selling  neckties. 
(Watts  cuts  cards.    Blake  begins  to  deal) 

Royce.  Well,  any  time  Franklyn  Royce  is  played 
for  a  sucker !  Cobb  just  confirmed  my  tip ;  I'm  go- 
ing to  milk  that  railroad  dry.  (Blake  gives  him 
2nd  card  tivice  around  in  deal) 

Blake.    What  do  you  mean  ? 

Royce.    There  is  a  piece  of  property  here  to  be 


70         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

sold  for  taxes — (Blake  pauses  in  deal  in  front  of 
Cobb,  holding  cards  till  finish  of  speech)  and  Willie 
is  going  to  be  on  the  job.  The  fact  is  I  can't  play 
much  longer.  I'm  leaving  to-night.  Early  bird, 
you  know. 

Blake.  {Significantly)  Something  you're  going 
to  buy  right  away  ? 

RoYCE.  To-morrow  morning.  I've  ordered  my 
sleigh  to  meet  me  here  later. 

Cobb.    Well,  you  are  a  hustler ! 

(Blake  accidentally  turns  card  face-up  to  Royce.) 

RoYCE.    I  won't  take  that  card. 

Blake.    You'll  have  to  take  it. 

Royce.     I  won't  take  it,  it's  no  good,  it's  faced. 

Blake.  You  can't  refuse  it ;  you've  got  to  stick 
to  the  rules. 

Royce.    I  won't. 

Blake.  Oh.  well,  we  won't  quarrel  about  it.  I'll 
give  you  another  card. 

Cobb.  He  can't  have  another  card ;  he  can  look 
at  his  hand  and  if  he  wants  to  stay  out  he  can,  but 
he's  got  to  play  the  cards  he's  got. 

Royce.  {Leaning  across  table  tozvards  Cobb)  I 
won't  do  either  ;  you  can't  make  me  play  this  hand — 
it's  a  misdeal. 

Watts.    Pick  up  your  cards. 

Royce.     I  won't ! 

Cobb.  You  ass,  why  don't  you  look  at  the  cards  ? 
That  may  be  the  very  one  you  want.  I'll  look  at 
them  for  you.  {Rises,  putting  cards  to  c.  of  table) 
And  stay  out  this  hand. 

Royce.  You  leave  my  cards  alone,  do  you  hear? 
(Strikes  at  Cobb's  arm) 

Blake.     {Rises)     Here,  it's  a  misdeal. 

Cose.    No,  siree.  Bob.    The  rule's  as  old  as  the 

BtAKE.    That  will  do,  Cobb.     (Cobb  sits)    Your 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         71 

cards,  Kimball.  (Giving  Kimball  cards.  Turning 
to  get  teapot)     Royce,  have  another  drink. 

Cobb.    I  think  he's  had  enough. 

Watts.  He's  just  had  enough  to  make  him 
peevish. 

(Blake  fills  Royce's  cup,  leaving  tea-pot  on  big 
table,  standing  at  his  place.  Kimball  begins 
to  shuffle.) 

Blake.  Royce,  expect  to  make  a  good  thing  out 
of  that  land  ? 

Royce.    Surest  thing  you  know. 

Blake.    Good  farming  property? 

Royce.  No,  regular  stone  pile ;  the  railroad's 
got  to  have  it;  lays  right  alongside  of  the  Junc- 
tion. 

Blake.    Got  to  pay  high  for  it  ? 

Royce.    Watch  little  Willie. 

Blake.    But  suppose  someone  bids  it  in? 

Royce.  Ain't  going  to  be  anybody  there  to  bid  it 
in :  nobody  wants  it. 

CoKB.    How  did  you  get  on  to  it  ? 

Royce.  Regular  Sherlock  Holmes:  tipped  off 
railroad  wanted  it,  see?  Found  out  owner.  That's 
where  Frankly n  old  boy  comes  in. 

(Royce  looks  to  his  cup.) 

Blake.  (Taking  tea-pot  up  from  table)  Have 
another  drink,  Royce. 

CoBB,    No,  what  are  you  trying  to  do? 

(Blake  shakes  head  at  Cobb.) 

Royce.  Say,  what  are  you  buttin'  in  for?  I 
guess  I  know  when  I  have  had  enough. 

Blake.  Cobb,  this  is  my  party,  I  know  what  I 
am  doing. 


72         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

RoYCE.  Sure,  fill  her  up  again,  Blake.  {Holding 
up  cup,  laughing)     Here  is  to  little  Franklyn! 

Cobb.  (After  Royce  has  finished  drink)  Come 
on,  let's  play  the  game ! 

(Kimball  begins  to  deal.) 

Royce.  Play  the  game?  You  bet  I  played  the 
game.    Owner's  a  httle  country  girl. 

(Blake  sets  tea-pot  down  forcibly,  turning  to  watch 
Royce.    Kimball  stops  dealing.) 

Cobb.    So  there's  a  girl  in  the  case? 

Royce.  Surest  thing  you  know.  Yaps  around 
here  wouldn't  take  advantage  of  a  good  thing — 
little  Franklyn's  long  suit,  taking  advantage  of  any 
good  thing.  Nice  little  girl.  (Blake  takes  cigar) 
Very  fond  of  her,  goin'  to  make  it  all  right  for  her. 

Cobb.  I  should  think  she'd  be  sore  to  be  done  out 
of  her  land. 

(Blake  lays  down  cigar.) 

Royce.  Oh,  that's  all  right — sell  her  land  to  the 
railroad — pot  of  money — come  back  and  say  you 
want  a  little  of  this  coin — marry  little  Franklyn  and 
then  we  live  happy  forevermore — {Head  sinks  on 
chest) 

Blake.  But  suppose  the  little  village  maiden 
doesn't  see  it  that  way  and  tells  you  you're  a  thief  ? 

Royce.  Tells  me  I'm  a  thief.  Blake,  you're 
foolish — pour  a  lot  of  money  in  her  lap — she  isn't 
goin'  to  call  me  a  thief.  Blake,  as  a  man  of  the 
world  to  a  man  of  the  world,  you  know  that  every 
woman's  got  her  price.  {Sleigh  bells  heard  off. 
Blake  starts  to  hit  him — then  pours  him  another 
drink.  Cobb  touches  Blake's  arm — Royce  takes 
cup,  drinks.    All  watch  Blake)    Thank  you,  Blake, 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         73 

hooray  for  little  Franklyn.  (Drinks)  Come  on 
with  your  game.  (He  shoves  the  cup  across  the 
table,  his  head  drops  forzvard  on  his  arm.  Sleigh 
bells  sound  off  r.  Blake  rushes  quickly  to  the 
window  R.,  then  comes  dozvn  to  Royce — shakes  him 
— RoYCE  does  not  move.  The  rest  of  this  scene 
played  very  quickly) 

Blake.  Out — down  and  out — Watts,  after  I'm 
gone.  (Going  for  coat  and  hat  on  sample  table  by 
door  c.) 

Watts.    After  you're  gone?    (Rising) 
Cobb.     (Turning  up  to  Blake — Kimball  rises) 
Where  are  you  going? 

Blake.     I'm  going  to  the  Junction  in  his  sleigh. 
Kimball.    What? 

Blake.  Boys,  aren't  you  on?  It's  her  land  he's 
going  to  steal. 

Kimball.    Whose? 

Blake.  Beth  Elliott's.  She's  a  dear  plucky  little 
girl,  and  I — I  like  her.  (Coming  dozvn  c.)  I'm 
going  to  block  his  game,  that's  why  I  got  him 
drunk.  I'm  going  to  beat  it  to  that  sale  while  he's 
sleeping  this  off.  I'm  going  to  save  her  land. 
Cobb.    How  ? 

Blake.  I'm  going  to  pay  her  taxes.  She  hasn't 
the  money ;  it's  up  to  me. 

Cobb.  (Pointing  to  Royce)  What'U  we  do  with 
him? 

Blake.  That's  up  to  you.  Put  a  rose  in  your 
hair  and  go  as  far  as  you  like.  (Exit  quickly  c. 
door) 

CURTAIN. 


74         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 
ACT    III. 


Scene  : — The  office  of  Franklyn  Royce. 
Time  : — Two  o'clock  of  the  following  day. 

It  is  a  square  room,  with  yellow  plaster  zvalls 
and  brown  woodwork.  At  r.  i  e.  is  a  zvindow 
with  green  shade,  which  is  drawn  dozvn  at  the 
rise  of  the  curtain.  Above  this  zvindow  is  a 
letter  press.  Above  r.  2  e.  is  a  fireplace.  On 
the  mantel  stand  letter  and  bill  files.  In  the 
flat  L.  of  c.  is  a  door  leading  to  the  hall — with  a 
backing  representing  plastered  wall.  Over  the 
door  is  a  transom  zvhich  is  practical;  at  l.  i  e. 
is  a  door.  Against  l.  zvall  above  this  door  is  a 
bookcase.  At  l.  of  door  in  back  flat  is  a  hat- 
rack  and  L.  of  hatrack  a  small  table.  At  l.  of 
c.  is  a  table  with  chairs  r.  and  l.  of  it.  At  r.  of 
c.  a  roll-top  desk;  on  top  of  desk  stand  the 
letter  files.  In  front  of  desk  is  a  swivel  arm- 
chair. At  rear  of  stage  and  r.  of  c.  is  a  leather 
couch.    On  the  floor  of  stage  is  a  large  rug. 

Before  the  rise  of  the  curtain  can  be  heard  a 
vigorous  pounding  on  the  door  and  rattling  of 
the  knob. 

As  curtain  rises,  Julius'  voice  off:  "Mr. 
Royce — Mr.  Royce." 

(At  rise.  Discovered:  Royce  asleep  on  the  couch. 
The  room,  is  in  semi-darkness,  the  blinds  at  the 
window  are  drazvn;  the  daylight  shozvs  through 
the  transom.  Royce  is  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  His 
coat  is  throzvn  over  him.  His  hair  is  dishevelled, 
his  collar  unfastened.  There  is  a  slight  pause 
— Julius'  head  appears  back  of  the  transom. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         75 

He  lifts  up  the  transom,  pokes  his  head  through 
and  discovers  Royce.) 

Julius.    Mr.  Royce,  Mr.  Royce. 

Royce.    Who  is  it? 

Julius.    Julius. 

Royce.    Go  away  and  leave  me  alone ! 

Julius.  Lawd,  man,  you'd  better  rouse  your- 
self up. 

Royce.  What  in  blazes  do  you  mean,  waking 
me  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ? 

Julius.  Midle  of  de  night?  It  am  de  middle  of 
de  day. 

Royce.    What ! 

Julius.  Now  you  see — you  see — yes,  sir,  de 
clock  done  struck  two  o'clock, 

Royce.  (Jumps  up,  rises,  goes  dozvn  r.)  Two 
o'clock!  Holy  smoke,  I've  missed  that  sale — and 
Drury  due  here  on  the  2:15.    What  will  I  tell  him? 

Julius.    Would  you  mind  openin'  the  door? 

Royce.    Open  it  yourself. 

Julius.  Say,  man,  you  think  I'd  climb  up  in  this 
perilous  position  for  fun.    De  door  am  locked. 

RoYCE.  Locked?  (Turns,  looks  up-stage)  Where 
is  the  key  ? 

Julius.  Mr.  Watts  done  throw  it  over  the  tran- 
som last  night. 

Royce.  What'd  you  lock  me  in  for?  (Going  up 
c.  to  door — finding  key  on  floor) 

Julius.  Don't  go  pickin'  on  me,  Mr.  Watts 
done  it.     (Disappears) 

Royce.  I  like  his  nerve?  (Unlocks  door  and 
throws  it  open — crosses  to  table  l.  holding  his  head) 

(Effect  of  ladder  falling  to  the  floor.) 

Julius.  (Enters — standing  in  door)  Lawd 
man,  be  careful !  You  done  broke  my  leg  in  three 
pieces.     (Julius  enters  carrying  pitcher)     He  cer- 


76        THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

tainly  do  look  bad.  {Offering  pitcher)  Thought 
this  might  come  in  handy.     (Royce  reaches  for  it) 

Julius.  (Turns  r.)  Wait  a  minute,  I'll  get  you 
a  glass. 

RoYCE.  (Crossing  to  Julius)  Never  mind,  this 
thirst  isn't  fussy.     (Grabs  pitcher  and  drains  it) 

Julius.  (Standing  to  r.  of  Royce)  I  can  hear 
that  sizzlin'  all  de  way  down. 

Royce.  (Handing  Julius  the  pitcher — who  puts 
it  upon  table  up  l. — crosses  to  table  up  l.)  Why 
didn't  you  call  me  ?    What  do  I  pay  you  for  ? 

Julius.  (Coming  c.  from  table)  Mr.  Watts 
done  left  positive  instructions  you  wasn't  to  be 
roused  before  eleven  o'clock. 

Royce.  (Sitting  r.  of  table  l.)  That's  queer! 
Why  didn't  you  rouse  me  at  eleven  ? 

Julius.  I  done  pound  on  de  door  at  eleven 
o'clock,  and  then  I  done  pound  on  de  door  at  twelve 
— then  I  done  pound  on  de  door  at  one. 

Royce.  (Interrupting)  Where  was  the  cashier? 
(Tying  necktie)  She  knew  that  I  was  supposed  to 
be  at  the  Junction  this  morning,  and  she  knew  that 
Drury  was  coming.  Why  didn't  she  call  me?  I'll 
see  about  this.     (Starts  to  rise) 

Julius.  Say,  man,  hold  your  horses ;  she  done 
pound  with  me — regular  duet — and  you  scare  her 
away.  You  gave  most  p'inted  instructions  where  we 
was  all  to  go  to — and  most  terrifying  illusions  as  to 
what  would  happen  if  we  didn't  go  there,  and  after 
all,  you  is  de  boss.  (Crosses  to  desk,  leaning  on 
corner  of  it) 

Royce.  You  might  have  put  me  to  bed  properly 
while  you  were  about  it.     (Looking  at  couch) 

Julius.  Lawd  man,  you  desisted  our  efforts. 
That  spot  was  your  personal  selection.  (Pointing  to 
couch) 

Royce.  Was  I  very  much  under  the  weather 
last  night? 

Julius.    You  was  utterly  submerged.    Mr.  Watts 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         77 

and  I  done  had  our  troubles  pilotin'  you  here  from 
the  Elite. 

RoYCE.    Were  the  others  all  right  ? 

Julius.  They  were  slightly  hilarious,  but  puf- 
fectly  navigable.  Of  course,  you  held  your  own. 
But  no  ordinary  drinker  can  hope  to  cope  with  drum- 
mers. 

RoYCE.  (Slapping  table)  Oh,  shut  up !  (Julius 
falls  off  desk)     Pull  up  that  blind. 

Julius.  (Going  over  to  shade  of  windoiv)  Yes, 
sah.     (Lets  it  go  up  zvith  a  slam) 

RoYCE.  (Holding  head)  I  didn't  tell  you  to 
break  it. 

Julius.  It  ain't  my  fault ;  it's  one  of  them  quick 
action  blinds. 

RoYCE.  (Coming  c.)  See  if  you  can't  get  a  quick 
move  on  and  get  this  office  fixed  up.  Drury  will  be 
here  in  a  minute.     (Going  hack  l.) 

Julius.  Drury  ?  Mr.  Martin  Drury  ?  The  Mil- 
lionaire Drury  of  Indiamanopolis  ? 

RoYCE.  Don't  stand  gassing  there.  Get  me  a 
bracer. 

Julius.  (Starting  to  c.)  Yes,  sah.  How'd  you 
like  a  single  portion  o'  the  hair  that  Scotch  dog  what 
jbit  you  last  night? 

RoYCE.    Go  out  and  get  me  a  Bromo  Seltzer, 

Julius.  Yes,  sah.  Oh,  Lawdy,  I  mos'  forgot — 
with  Mr.  Blake's  compliments.  (Puts  Bromo  Seltzer 
on  the  table  l.) 

RoYCE.    What  is  it? 

Julius.    (Coming  little  c.  to  r.)    Bromo  Seltzer. 

RoYCE.  Tell  Mr.  Blake  I'm  much  obliged. 
(About  to  go  out  l.) 

Julius.    Mr.  Blake  done  left  town. 

RoYCE.     (Stopping)    What? 

Julius.  He  done  left  town  last  night.  Went  over 
to  the  Junction  in  your  sleigh. 

RoYCE.  To  the  Junction  in  my  sleigh?  Did  he 
leave  any  word  ? 


78         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Julius.     (Moving  right)     Left  his  trunks. 

RoYCE.     Did  he  give  you  any  message  for  me? 

Julius.  (Jumps)  No,  sah.  Oh,  most  forgot: 
Mr.  Watts  done  give  me  de  bottle.  Mr.  Watts  said 
you  take  that  to  Mr.  Royce  with  Mr.  Blake's  com- 
pliments. Mr.  Watts  certainly  seemed  powerful 
amused  about  somethin'.     (Laughs) 

RoYCE.  Shut  up !  (Hits  table)  I  don't  see  the 
joke.     Fix  me  a  dose.     (Starting  to  door  l.) 

Julius.  (Going  to  end  of  desk)  Yes,  sah. 
Don't  you  think  you'd  better  brush  up  your  hair  a 
little  bit  before  the  millionaire  arrives  from  Indiam- 
anopoHs  ? 

RoYCE.  Yes,  I  don't  want  Drury  to  see  me  like 
this.  I  suppose  he'll  raise  merry  hell  as  it  is ;  but  I 
can  go  over  to-morrow. 

Julius.  Will  you  have  a  single  or  a  double  por- 
tion?    (Stepping  out  a  little) 

RoYCE.  Double,  and  be  quick  about  it.  (Exits 
door  L.) 

Julius.  Double  and  be  quick  about  it — (Re- 
peating. Taking  up  bottle  with  him)  I  certainly 
feel  sorry  for  that  poor  man.  (Going  to  the 
small  table  up  l.  Mixes  Bromo  Seltzer — puts  in  all 
the  contents  of  the  bottle)  I  know  just  how  he  feels 
— cause  I've  been  there  myself  many's  the  time.  Oh, 
yes,  indeedy. 

(A  knock  at  the  door.  Julius  opens  it  and  dis- 
closes Beth  Elliott  standing  outside  with  a 
telegram  in  her  hand.) 

Beth.    I  have  a  telegram  for  Mr.  Royce. 

(Julius  takes  telegram  and  looks  it  over.) 

Beth.    I  said,  for  Mr.  Royce. 
Julius.     I  heard  you.  Miss  Elliott,  I  heard  you 
the  first  time ;  but  you  hadn't  better  bother  him  with 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.  79 

nothing  trifling  now.  You  just  leave  it,  honey — and 
I'll  give  it  to  him  when  he's  more  ca'm-like.  I'm 
soothin'  him  now.  {Referring  to  Brotno  Seltzer) 
Beth.  I  can't  leave  it,  Julius.  It's  a  collect  mes- 
sage. (Beth  starts  toivard  desk  r.  Royce's  voice 
stops  her — Julius  gives  back  telegram.  In  doing  so 
he  screens  her  from  view  of  door  l.) 

(RoYCE  enters  door  l.) 

RoYCE.  Julius,  Where's  that  drink?  (JuLius 
rushes  to  the  table.    Royce  sees  Miss  Elliott) 

RoYCE.     Oh.  good-morning,  Miss   Elliott. 

Julius.  {Up  to  door)  Morning!  Lawd  man — 
it's  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  (Royce  glares  at 
Julius  and  Julius  exits  slozvly,  stooping  and  going 
around  the  door) 

Beth.  (Crosses  to  l.,  meets  Royce  c.)  I  have 
a  telegram  for  you,  Mr.  Royce.  Collect  charges — 
the  cashier  said  I  must  have  your  O.  K.  before  she 
could  pay  them. 

Royce.  (He  signs  the  envelope)  She's  quite  a 
stickler  for  routine.  (As  Beth  offers  the  telegram, 
tries  to  take  her  hand)  Are  you  going  to  forgive  me 
for  what  I  said  last  night?  I've  no  excuse,  except 
that  I  was  jealous. 

Beth.  Jealous?  What  has  given  you  the  right  to 
be  jealous  ? 

Royce.  Jealousy  isn't  a  matter  of  right.  You 
promised  to  walk  home  with  me  yesterday  afternoon 
and  you  went  with  Blake.  I'm  ashamed  to  say.  I 
tried  to  console  myself,  and  I  wasn't  quite  myself 
last  night.    Won't  you  understand  and  overlook  it? 

Beth.    I  suppose  I  must. 

Royce.    And  we  are  friends  again? 

Beth.  Friends  ?  I  can't  rush  into  friendship,  Mr. 
Royce.     (Turning  from  hint,  going  little  to  R.) 

Royce.  You  wern't  so  reserved  with  Blake. 
{Turning,  tearing  open  envelope,  moving  to  left  end 


8o         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

crushing  envelope  in  hand)  At  least  not  to  hear 
him  tell  it. 

Beth.  The  envelope/please.  (Royce  hands  the 
envelope  to  her)  Thank  you.  (Beth  turns  to  go. 
Royce  is  reading  the  telegram) 

RoYCE.  Damn !  (Crumpling  the  telegram  fiercely 
in  his  hand.  Beth  turns,  startled)  Miss  Elliott— 
(She  turns)  this  telegram  concerns  you. 

Beth.    Me?    (Up  c.  by  door) 

Royce.    Your  land  has  been  sold. 

Beth.  (Stunned)  My  land  sold!  My  land 
sold? 

Royce.    Yes,  bid  in  this  morning  at  the  tax  sale. 

Beth.  (Coming  down  to  chair  R.  of  table)  Who 
could  have  done  this  thing? 

Royce.    Blake. 

Beth.  Mr.  Blake!  I  don't  believe  you.  (Royce 
hands  her  the  telegram.  Reading)  "  Sorry  you 
missed  the  sale." 

Royce.    You  don't  question  this? 

Beth.  No,  it's  my  own  handwriting.  I  took  it 
over  the  wire  this  morning?  I  thought  the  sale  re- 
fered  to  merchandise.  Why  should  he  want  my 
land? 

Royce.  Why?  (He  points  to  the  words  on  the 
telegram  and  reads)  "  I'm  going  to  milk  that  rail- 
road dry  " — That's  why. 

Beth.    What  does  it  mean  ? 

Royce.  That  your  land's  worth  a  lot  of  money, 
and  that  Blake  has  it — (Putting  telegram  on  table) 
that's  what  it  means,  damn  him!     (Going  l.) 

Beth.  (Sitting  in  chair  r.  of  table)  A  lot  of 
money — my  land — how  ? 

Royce.  (Facing  front)  The  railroad  wants  to 
put  in  another  spur  of  track  at  the  Junction,  and 
they  have  got  to  have  your  land  to  do  it. 

Beth.  Why  should  Mr.  Blake  think  the  land  the 
railroad  wanted  was  mine  ?  You  see,  there  must  be 
some  mistake.    He  could  know  nothing — (Pause) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         8i 

Why,  yes,  he  did!  I  told  him  myself.  (Royce 
turns)     I  described  its  exact  location. 

Royce.  You  told  Blake?  (Up  to  table)  A  man 
you  never  saw  until  yesterday?  {Going  dozvn  l.) 
Blake  has  a  great  way  with  women — (She  notes  this) 
but  I  didn't  think  he  was  as  quick  as  all  that.  You, 
of  all  women !  (Up  to  table  l.)  How  did  you  hap- 
pen to  talk  to  him  at  all  ? 

Beth.    He  made  some  inquiries  at  the  window. 

Royce.  A  scheme  to  get  in  conversation  with 
you! 

Beth.  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Royce,  he  had  been  carried 
beyond  his  destination,  he  had  intended  to  get  off 
at  the  Junction. 

Royce.  A  fake,  a  fake  pure  and  simple.  (Up- 
stage) 

Beth.  What  I  have  told  you  is  true.  He  was 
very  amusing;  we  had  lunch  together.  (Turns. 
Royce  makes  movement)  I  told  him  of  the  land  and 
all  it  meant  to  me ;  but  why  should  he  send  this  wire 
to  you?     (Turning  round) 

Royce.  (Down  to  table  back)  To  rub  it  in.  He 
knew  that  I  was  in  love  with  you.  (SJie  turns  azvay) 
Oh,  every  one  has  seen  it  but  you.  He  knew  that  I 
had  intended  going  over  to  bid  it  in.  That's  why  he 
got  me  drunk — drugged  me — had  me  locked  in  this 
room — so  that  he  could  sneak  over  to  the  Junction 
and  do  us  both. 

Beth.    But  you  intended  to  bid  it  in!    Why? 

Royce.  (Disconcerted  at  first)  You  hadn't  the 
money  to  pay  your  taxes,  you  wouldn't  accept  it 
from  me ;  I  was  going  to  resell  it  to  the  railroad  for 
you  through  Mr.  Drury,  who  was  coming  here  to- 
day to  close  the  deal. 

Beth.    Why  didn't  you  tell  me  all  this? 

Royce.  I  wanted  to  surprise  you.  I  thought 
gratitude  might  win  you  where  other  means  had 
failed.    Then  last  night,  when  I  discovered  that  the 


82         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

rumor  was  out,  I  decided  to  go  at  once  before  anyone 
here  could  get  ahead  of  us. 

Beth.  Everybody  here  knows  that  a  tax  title  is 
worthless — (Royce  starts — turning  to  him)  Why 
— for  the  moment  I'd  forgotten  it  myself. 

RoYCE.    Worthless!     (Steps  back) 

Beth.  Yes,  I  have  six  months  in  which  to  buy 
the  land  back. 

RoYCE.  You  have  ?  Then  Blake  wasn't  so  smart. 
(Coming  round  to  l.  of  table  and  to  front)  There's 
a  trick  he's  overlooked.  We'll  beat  him  yet.  (To 
table)  If  you  won't  take  the  money  from  me.  see 
Mr.  Drury.  I  only  want  to  help  you  to  be  rid  of 
Blake  at  once  and  for  all  time. 

Beth.  (After  pause)  To  be  rid  of  him  at  once 
and  for  all  time.  (There  is  a  pause.  Beth  sits  star- 
ing in  front  of  her,  Royce  watching  her  narrozvly) 

(Mrs.  Babbit  rushes  in.    Royce  goes  to  l.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Dozvn  to  Beth)  Why,  Beth, 
you  poor  dear,  I've  just  heard  the  news ;  ain't  it 
awful?  Met  Mrs.  Dawson — she  just  got  back  from 
the  Junction  and  says  your  land's  been  bought  in. 
She  talked  so  much  I  couldn't  get  a  word  out  of  her. 
Who  did  it? 

RoYCE.    Blake. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Blake — that  drummer  feller  ?  And 
him  so  well  spoken — such  genteel  manners — so 
plump  and  pleasing. 

Royce.  And  so  slick.  (Moving  left  and  facing 
them) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  The  minute  I  heard  it  I  rushed 
right  over  to  the  depot.  (Moving  tozvard  Beth) 
gimlet.  Well — who  ever  would  look  for  such  deceit 
I  knew  you'd  want  me  near  you  in  such  a  crisis.  I 
finally  wormed  where  you  were  out  of  Crabb — 
(Crosses  to  c.)  though  I  thought  I'd  have  to  use  a 
in  a  f-it  p:in?    (Moving  round  back  of  Beth)    You 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         83 

poor  clear — come  right  to  me !  We'll  go  over  to  the 
hotel  and  have  a  cup  of  tea.  Things  have  a  way  of 
looking  brighter  after  a  good  cup  of  tea.  (Beth  at 
the  first  word  of  zvomanly  sympathy  begins  to  break 
down)  Now,  dearie — (Beth  begins  to  cry,  Mrs. 
Babbit  consoles  her;  looks  at  Royce  over  Beth's 
bozved  head,  and  motions  for  him  to  leave  the  room. 
She  forms  the  words  zvith  her  month,  but  does  not 
articulate  audibly  "  Go  away  and  let  her  have  a  good 
cry  " — Royce  does  not  at  first  comprehend.  Mrs. 
Babbit  repeats  it — Royce  exits  c.  door)  There, 
there,  dearie — don't  you  worry — there's  some  way 
out  of  this — I  don't  see  it  yet — {Putting  hand  to  her 
forehead)  but  I'll  get  my  brain  to  working  presently ! 
{Moving  c.) 

Beth.    Oh,  it  isn't  the  land.     I  can  buy  it  back. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Then  what  on  earth  are  you  cry- 
ing about  ? 

Beth.  {Turning  to  front)  The  humiliation — 
the  humiliation — when  I  think  of  last  night ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.     {Interrupting)     Last  night? 

Beth.  When  you  were  in  the  other  room,  let- 
ting him  make  love  to  me — believing  his  story  of 
love  at  first  sight — wanting  to  believe  it — he  seemed 
so  honest — and  all  a  trick  to  help  him  cheat  me — • 
how  he  must  have  laughed  at  me  for  a  little  simple- 
ton— and  those  other  men — I  suppose  they  laughed 
with  him — made  a  joke  of  me — as  everyone  else  in 
this  place  will — when  they  hear  the  news — and  will 
gossip  and  wonder  at  me — me !  Oh,  to  be  tricked 
and  humiliated — and  to  care  !  How  can  I  care  ?  I 
haven't  a  scrap  of  pride  left. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Moving  toward  her)  Care? 
You  don't  mean — you 

Beth.  {Interrupting)  Oh,  yes,  he  swept  me  oflf 
my  feet.  {Pause.  Rising  and  going  l.  to  end  of 
table)  To  think  I  might  have  loved  him!  Now  I 
despise — I  hate  him ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.     {Moving  nearer)     That's  right. 


84         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

there  ain't  any  man  that  stands  in  shoe  leather  that's 
worth  a  woman's  tears. 

Beth.  {Partly  facing  Mrs.  Babbit  and  up- 
stage) I'll  be  even  with  him.  I'll  teach  Mr.  Blake 
there's  one  woman  who  can't  be  tricked,  humihated 
and  laughed  at.  Oh,  what  must  you  think  of  me? 
{Boiving  head) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  I  can't  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
blame  you,  dearie.  He  was  an  attractive  devil.  Old 
as  I  am  and  suspicious  by  nature — well,  he  cer- 
tainly had  a  way  with  him.  {Turning  to  Beth) 
What  are  you  going  to  do  ? 

Beth.  Mr.  Royce  has  asked  me  to  see  Mr. 
Drury. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Be  careful — let  this  be  a  les- 
son to  you — and  him  so  fat  and  genial — men  are 
deceivers  ever — but  what's  a  woman  to  do?  You 
can't  live  with  'em  or  without  'em.  {Crosses  r.  to 
desk) 

{Enter  Royce,  followed  by  Drury.    Royce  to  l.  c. 
Drury  c.) 

Royce.  Miss  Elliott,  let  me  present  my  em- 
ployer, Mr.  Drury. 

{Before  Beth  can  acknozvledge  the  introduc- 
ton,  Drury  advances  cordially.  Mrs.  Babbit 
primps,  fixing  tie,  etc.) 

Drury.  I'm  glad  to  meet  you,  Miss  Elliott.  I'd 
like  to  have  a  talk  with  you  a  few  minutes — 
alone.  {The  last  he  says  pointedly  at  Mrs.  Bab- 
Bit  who,  at  first,  pleased  at  the  idea  of  meeting 
Drury,  is  now  furious) 

Beth.    I  have  no  secrets  from  Mrs.  Babbit. 

Royce.     Mrs.  Babbit,  let  me 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Interrupting)  Don't  waste  your 
breath,  Mr.  Royce.     {Crossing  to  door  c.  between 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         85 

Drury  and  Royce.  Drury  crossing  to  R.  of  desk) 
I  don't  have  to  have  a  house  fall  on  me  to  take  a 
hint.    Good-bye,  dearie. 

(Drury  is  annoyed,  but  proceeds  to  make  the  best 
of  it.) 

Drury.  I  meant  no  offense,  Madam.  I  did  not 
intend  to  be  rude. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  No,  it's  just  your  way.  You're 
one  of  those  rough  diamonds.  Well,  I'll  have  mine 
polished,  thank  you.      (Exits,  slamming  the  door 

c.) 

Drury.  (Coming  toward  c.)  Blake's  been  up 
to  his  old  tricks  again.  I'm  sorry  you're  the  vic- 
tim this  time,  Miss  Elliott. 

Beth.     So  Mr.  Blake  has  done  this  before? 

Drury.  He's  always  been  a  bit  unscrupulous  in 
his  methods.  He's  a  great  chap  with  the  women, 
you  can't  sell  ladies'  suits  without  the  gift  of  gab; 
but,  although  anything's  fair  to-day  in  business,  an 
offense  of  this  kind  can't  go  unpunished. 

Beth.  I've  no  desire  to  punish  Mr.  Blake.  I 
don't  care  to  have  any  further  dealings  with  him 
—  (Going  tip  c. — Royce  drops  down  back  of  table) 

Drury.  You'll  have  to,  Miss  Elliott,  if  you  want 
to  recover  that  land.  (She  stops)  You  don't 
strike  me  as  the  sort  of  young  woman  to  sacrifice 
your  future  through  any  sense  ot  false  pride. 

Beth.  But  must  I  sink  my  pride  to  beg  humbly 
for  what  he  took  from  me? 

Royce.  (Quickly)  You  don't  have  to  beg.  You 
have  only  to  demand.  (Coming  dotvn  to  chair  r. 
of  table) 

Beth.  But  I  haven't  the  money  to  make  such  a 
demand.     (Looking  at  Royce) 

Drury.  That's  where  I  come  in.  Royce  tells 
me  that  you  can  buy  back  your  land  from  Blake. 
I'll  give  you  the  money. 


86         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Beth.  Oh,  no,  thank  you,  Mr.  Drury,  you  see  I 
have  six  months — (Starts  to  door  c.) 

Drury.  (Interrupting)  One  moment,  you  can't 
afford  to  wait  six  months.  We  must  stop  this  here 
and  now.  We  must  get  to  that  railroad  before  Blake 
has  time  to  make  another  move. 

Beth.    But  the  land  is  mine. 

Drury.  If  Blake  sells  to  the  railroad  they'll  rush 
in  improvements  and  you  would  have  to  pay  them 
for  the  land  and  the  improvements. 

RoYCE.    Would  she  be  obliged  to  do  that? 

Drury.    That  is  the  law.     {Crossing  to  l.) 

Beth.    Oh,  this  leaves  me  helpless. 

Drury.  Not  at  all.  You  couldn't  fight  a  corpora- 
tion. (Moving  dozvn  r.)  But  I  can.  How  much 
will  you  owe  Blake  ? 

Beth.     About  four  hundred  dollars. 

Drury.  (Going  to  chair  at  desk)  Here,  I'll 
give  you  the  check  to  pay  off  Blake,  and  I'll  buy 
your  land.  (Pause — turning  in  chair)  Let  me  see 
— does  five  thousand  dollars  strike  you  as  a  fair 
price?     (Then  turns  back  and  writes  check) 

Beth.     (Delighted)    Five  thousand  dollars ! 

RoYCE.  Why,  it's  a  fortune.  This  is  very  gener- 
ous of  you,  Mr.  Drury. 

Beth.  It's  too  generous.  I  can't  be  under  such 
obligations.     (Coming  nearer  desk) 

Drury.  No  obligations.  It's  business.  I'll  resell 
to  the  railroad,  possibly  at  a  small  profit.  (Rising) 
But  even  if  I  lose  by  the  contract,  I  am  ready  and 
willing  to  do  this  for  you.  I  couldn't  have  it  said 
that  an  employee  of  Martin  Drury's  would  cheat  a 
woman.    It  would  reflect  on  the  firm. 

Royce.     (Eagerly)    You'll  accept  this  offer? 

Beth.  (After  a  pause)  I  don't  know  what  to 
do.     (Moving  to  c.) 

Drury.  Oh,  you're  not  going  to  let  Blake  cheat 
you. 

RoYCE.    And  laugh  at  you. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         87 

Drury.  Why  not  laugh  at  him?  He's  a  smart 
boy,  but  you're  a  clever  woman.  (Taking  her  by 
her  L.  arm,  leading  her  to  his  desk)  Why  not  beat 
him  at  his  own  game?  Punish  him  in  his  pocket- 
book  ;  that's  the  worst  punishment  you  can  inflict 
on  any  man.  Come,  here  is  the  check  for  four  hun- 
dred dollars  for  Blake ;  you'll  have  to  endorse  it 
over  to  him. 

(Beth  goes  to  desk,  sits,  takes  the  pen  from 
Drury,  and  is  about  to  endorse  it;  then  hesi- 
tates.) 

Beth.  (Turning  to  Drury)  I'm  so  bewildered 
— Fm  so  alone — I've  no  experience  of  business  or 
men.  It's  my  ignorance  against  your  knowledge.  I 
know  you  have  little  to  gain,  but  everything  I  have 
is  at  stake.  Forgive  my  doubt,  Mr.  Drury,  but  why 
do  you  wish  to  do  this  for  me  ? 

(Drury  is  confused,  Royce  anxious.  They  are 
zvatching  Beth,  when  the  door  opens  and 
Blake  appears.) 

Blake.    Hello,  Franklin,  old  top! 

Royce.    Blake!     (By  table  l.) 

(Beth  starts  to  rise,  but  Drury  lays  a  restraining 
hand  on  her  shoulder  and  advances  so  that  he 
screens  her  from  Blake.) 

Blake.  Well,  I  beat  you  to  it?  Get  my  wire? 
Sorry  I  had  to  send  it  collect,  but  those  taxes  and 
my  iong-distance  chat  with  the  president  of  the 
railroad  took  all  my  loose  change.  Sorry  I  was  late, 
Mr.  Drury.  (Taking  off  gloves,  coat,  and  hanging 
coat  on  rack) 


88         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Drury.  So  you  bought  Miss  Elliott's  land  to- 
day?   (At  end  of  desk) 

Blake.  Aren't  peeved,  are  you?  {In  c.  near 
door) 

Drury.  I'm  disgusted  at  your  dishonorable  deal- 
ings. 

Blake.  You're  there  strong  with  Bible-class 
talk,  but  it  doesn't  listen  well  coming  from  you,  and 
this  isn't  your  scrap,  Mr.  Drury.  (Looking  at 
Royce) 

Drury.    I'm  going  to  make  it  my  scrap. 

Blake.  Just  hungry  for  trouble !  But  you  can't 
get  any  rise  out  of  me.  I'm  wearing  that  original 
smile  that  won't  wipe  ofif.  (Smiles)  For  I've  just 
turned  a  neat  little  trick  in  real  estate.  (Beth  turns 
to  desk)  Had  some  inside  information.  (Putting 
hat  on  rack.  Beth  endorses  check)  Kind  of  tough 
on  my  old  pal,  Frank. 

Drury.  (Going  dozvni..)  You  see,  Miss  Elliott. 
(Goes  around  Beth  to  r.) 

(Blake,  who  has  been  putting  his  hat  on  rack,  stops 
an  instant  and  pauses.) 

Blake.  Miss  Elliott !  (He  looks  at  Drury  and 
Royce,  then  comes  easily  towards  Beth,  offer- 
ing to  shake  hands)  This  is  a  surprise!  I've  been 
wearing  out  my  congress  gaiters  looking  for  you. 

(Drury  gets  check.) 

Beth.  I'm  glad  you've  found  me,  Mr.  Blake. 
(Crossing  to  l.  in  front  of  table)  It  saves  me  the 
trouble  of  looking  for  you. 

Blake.  Why,  what's  little  Bobbie  done  now? 
(Following  Beth  to  l.  Drury  moves  up  to 
desk)  Won't  you  come  across  with  a  few  kind 
words  that  will  elucidate  this  greeting  frappp"^ 
(She  looks  at  him,  then  silently  hands  him  the  telf* 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         89 

gram.  Blake  reads  it.  Slight  pause)  Don't  let  this 
keep  you  awake  nights.  Come  out  on  the  back  porch 
and  I'll  explain.  (Moving  tozvards  her,  lie  goes  to 
take  her  arm.    Beth  resents  it) 

Beth.  Explain?  You're  found  out,  and  you 
think  to  escape  the  consequences  by  making  a  joke 
of  it  all.  Explain?  You  bought  my  land  to-day, 
didn't  you  ? 

Blake.  (Pause)  I  was  at  the  sale.  (Crossing 
to  c.) 

Beth.    I  want  my  land ! 

Blake.  Why?  (He  puts  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
from  zvhich  he  half  drazvs  a  paper,  then  stops) 

Drury.  (Interrupting)  Why?  Because  I've 
made  her  an  offer  and  she  has  accepted  it.  (Royce 
and  Drury  zvatch  Beth  eagerly.    Slight  pause) 

Beth.    Yes,  I've  accepted  it. 

(Drury  fakes  check  from  desk,  looking  at  endorse- 
ment.  Blake  puts  the  paper  hack  in  his  pocket 
and  slaps  his  pocket  significantly.) 

Blake.    Now.  wait  a  minute :  this  thing's  got  me 
_  )ing !    You  d     " 
land  to  them  ? 

Beth.    Yes. 

(Royce  and  Drury  smile  with  relief.) 

Blake.  You  can't  do  that.  Don't  you  see  they're 
a  couple  of  sharks,  conning  you  with  a  few  hun- 
dreds ? 

Beth.  Hundreds?  How  httle  you  know,  then. 
They've  given  me  thousands !  You,  after  what 
you've  done,  dare  to  stand  there  defaming  them? 

Blake.  Defaming  them?  This  pair  of  second 
story  workers?  You're  in  the  wrong.  They've 
never  been  in  business  for  their  health.    Anything 


90         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

they  may  have  handed  you,  no  matter  what  it  looks 
like,  is  a  lemon. 

Beth.  How  dare  you  trick  and  cheat  me,  and 
then  laugh  ? 

Blake.  Laugh?  Me?  I'm  an  endless  chain  of 
misery.  You'll  be  sorry  you've  spoken  to  me  like 
this ;  you  have  it  framed  up  all  wrong. 

Beth,  Mr.  Royce  has  disclosed  your  treachery 
to  me. 

Blake.  He's  a  healthy  one  to  talk  about  treach- 
ery !  He's  handed  out  a  lot  of  information.  Did  he 
happen  to  tip  it  off  that  he  intended  to  go  over  and 
buy  in  your  property  ? 

Beth.  Yes — to  protect  me  from  you.  {She  goes 
upstage) 

Blake.  Royce.  you're  immense.  {Bowing  mock- 
ingly to  Royce)  But  you  don't  believe  him?  {Going 
np  c.  to  Beth) 

Beth.  And  did  you  think  I'd  believe  you?  Be- 
lieve the  word  of  a  man  that  I  never  sdw  until  yester- 
day, against  the  word  of  this  man  who  has  proven 
himself  my  friend? 

Blake.  Your  friend?  Somebody's  been  string- 
ing you.  He's  trying  to  cheat  you  and  has  called  in 
our  friend  on  my  right  to  help  him.  {Looking  at 
Drury) 

Drury.  {Moving  over  to  Blake)  Be  careful, 
Blake,  I  don't  like  these  references  to  me  and  I  may 
not  overlook  them. 

Beth.  It's  too  bad  about  you,  but  you  never  did 
have  a  sincere  regard  for  the  truth !  {Looking  to- 
ward Royce) 

Drury.  {Moving  nearer  to  Blake)  The  truth? 
You! 

Blake.  {Turning  on  Drury — interrupting) 
Don't  say  it — your  age  protects  you — but  don't  get 
reckless. 

Drury.  {Looking  at  check  in  his  hand)  Come 
now,  Blake,  I'm  old,  but  I'm  not — foolish.     You 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         91 

thought  you  had  a  good  thing !  I  Hke  you,  but  I'm 
disappointed  in  you.  {Moving  doivn  r.)  Do  the 
right  thing  by  this  girl. 

Blake.  Just  keep  cases  on  httle  Bobbie.  He's 
going  to  do  the  right  thing  by  this  girl ;  you  pikers 
won't  steal  her  land  and  get  away  with  it — not  with 
me  on  the  job! 

RoYCE.  {Coming  to  front  of  tabic)  If  you 
thought  I  wanted  to  rob  her,  why  didn't  you  go  to 
her  last  night?  She  was  just  across  the  hall  with 
Mrs.  Babbit. 

Beth.  {Coming  dozvn  a  step)  Why  didn't  you 
come  to  me  ? 

Blake.  There  was  no  time  to  lose.  {Moving 
nearer  Beth)     I  did  what  seemed  best  for  you. 

Beth.  {She  moves  aivay  from  Iiim  to  front  of 
table  L.)  Lies — lies — all  lies  !  {Turning  to  Blake) 
You  did  what  seemed  best  for  me.  You  thought 
only  of  cheating  me ;  you  knew  my  land  was  of 
value.  Oh,  yes,  you  knew  the  railroad's  plans  made 
it  of  value.  You  had  inside  information.  You 
turned  a  neat  little  trick  in  real  estate ;  you  schemed 
to  outwit  me,  to  steal  my  land,  to  sell  it  to  the 

railroad 

Blake.      {Interrupting)      No — no — that    is    not 
true.    I  did  it  solely  for  you.     {Coming  to  fable  l.) 
Beth.     Then  if  you  did  this  all  solely  for  me, 
why  don't  you  give  me  my  land? 

Blake.  Give  you  your  land — to  sell  it  for  a  song 
to  them?    No,  I'll  save  you  in  spite  of  yourself. 

Beth,  You'll  save  me?  {Moving  across  r.  to 
Drury)  I'll  save  myself.  Mr.  Drury,  the  check, 
please.  (Drury  gives  Iter  the  check.  She  crosses 
to  the  table,  placing  check  on  it)  There — I  buy 
it  back.  {Starting  to  go  np-stage)  If  the  price 
were  more  I'd  pay  it  to  you. 

Blake.  No,  I  refuse  to  sell  it  to  you.  I  refuse 
to  let  you  ruin  yourself. 


92         THE  TRAVELING  SALES:MAN. 

Beth.     You  must  take  this  check.      (Turning) 

Blake.    No  ! 

Beth.  You  will  have  to  take  this  check.  You 
were  very  clever,  Mr.  Blake,  but  you  weren't  clever 
enough :  you  forget  that  the  law  protects  women 
from  cheats  like  you ;  you  didn't  know  that  I  could 
refund  you  the  money  you  paid  for  my  land,  that  I 
had  six  months  in  which  to  reclaim  it.  That  you 
overlooked,  didn't  you  ? 

Blake.    Miss  Elliott !    Beth ! 

Beth.  (She  goes  up  to  the  door)  You  thought 
me  a  silly  little  country  girl,  flattered  by  the  shop- 
worn attentions  of  a  drummer ;  you  thought  to  cheat 
a  woman — insult  her  with  your  love,  while  you 
robbed  her,  win  her  fieart,  perhaps — and  then  pass  on 
and  laugh.  But  it's  the  silly  little  country  girl  who 
laughs  and  laughs  and  laughs!  (She  bursts  into  a 
hysterical  fit  of  laughter  and  exits  in  a  furious  rage, 
her  laughter  dying  away  in  the  distance) 

Blake.  (Against  table — back  of  it — turning  to 
audience)    Well,  I've  a  hoodoo  that's  twins. 

Drury.  Blake,  I'm  sorry  for  you.  (Going  to 
chair  at  desk.    Blake-  looks  at  Drury) 

Blake.  Then  if  you're  sorry  for  me,  take  your 
money  out  of  this  deal.  Let  Royce  and  I  fight  it  out 
alone.  If  he  has  spunk  enough  to  fight  fair — (Look- 
ing hard  at  Royce) 

RoYCE.  (Interrupting)  You're  a  fine  one  to 
talk  about  fighting  fair!  You  forget,  you  got  me 
drunk.     (Coming  a  little  to  r.) 

Blake.     I  fight  a  crook  with  a  crook's  weapons. 

Drury.    We've  got  you,  Blake — (Sitting) 

Blake.  (Over  to  desk)  Give  me  a  chance, 
Drury.  I've  always  worked  for  your  best  interests. 
I've  never  asked  a  favor — I  do  so  now.  I  don't 
give  a  hoot  about  myself — but — she's  the  whole 
thing  to  me.  I'm  begging  for  the  girl  I  love.  Give 
her  a  square  deal. 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         93 

Drury.  I've  given  her  a  square  deal ;  I'm  giving 
her  more  than  she  can  get  out  of  the  railroad. 

Blake.  What  are  you  giving  her?  (Leaning  on 
desk) 

Drury.     Five  thousand  dollars. 

Blake.  Five  thousand  dollars  !  Aren't  you  afraid 
you'll  sprain  your  bank  account?  Why,  you  know 
that  right  of  way's  worth  anything  she  asks  for  it. 
I  won't  believe  that  this  is  your  scheme — Royce  has 
doped  this  trick  out  for  you. 

Drury.  There's  no  trick  about  it,  I've  made  her 
an  offer  and  she's  accepted  it.    That's  business. 

Blake.  Business  isn't  stealing  candy  from  in- 
fants. 

Drury.     Business  is  business. 

Blake.     Then  you  won't  back  out  of  this  deal? 

Drury.    Did  you  ever  know  me  to  back  out  ? 

Blake.    Then  we  go  to  the  mat. 

Drury.     {Laughingly)     No,  the  fight's  over. 

Blake.  You  think  you've  got  that  girl  hipped, 
but  you  haven't ;  you've  only  got  her  dazzled  by  a 
few  thousand  that  aren't  a  flea  bite  to  what  she's 
going  to  get. 

Drury.     Oh,  is  she? 

Blake.  Yoii  bet  she  is!  You'll  take  your  money 
out  of  this  deal  or  I'll  show  you  up  as  you  are. 
(Drury  smiles)  I  know  a  few  things  about  your 
business  methods  that  wouldn't  look  dressy  in  print. 
(Drury  shozvs  that  he's  alarmed)  You  keep 
your  hands  off  that  land  of  Beth  Elliott's,  for  if  this 
is  to  be  a  scrap,  you'll  take  the  count.  (Turning 
back  to  Drury) 

Drury.  After  all,  why  should  she  come  between 
old  friends?  (Blake  turns  away)  Maybe  we  can 
boost  that  offer  a  couple  of  thousand.  We  haven't 
closed  with  Miss  Elliott  yet. 

Blake.      You    haven't    closed    with    her    yet? 

Drury.  No,  we  haven't  given  her  that  check 
for  $5,000. 


94         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  You  haven't  ?  Oh,  this  is  a  pipe !  ( Going 
upc.) 

RoYCE.  {Turning  quickly — smashing  fist  on 
table)    This  deal  is  closed. 

Blake.  Closed.  Oh,  make  a  noise  like  a  hoop 
and  roll  away  !  You  haven't  gotten  to  her  with  your 
money  yet.     (Coming  dozvn  c.) 

Royce.  What's  that's  to  you?  This  check  put 
you  out  of  it. 

Blake.  (Slowly  and  quietly)  You  can't  rush 
me.  I'm  going  to  take  my  time ;  all  I  need  is  time 
to  find  Beth  Elliott— (Royce  and  Drury  laugh.  To 
Royce)  Oh,  you  can  laugh,  but  I'm  going  to  hand 
you  the  longest,  largest  laugh  of  your  existence.  But 
I'll  be  doing  the  smiling.  (To  Drury)  You  had 
me  whipped  for  a  minute  or  two.  but  I've  got  my 
second  wind.  I'm  going  to  Beth  Elliott,  for  now  I 
can  tell  her  the  truth.  The  land's  never  been  mine. 
She's  always  owned  it.  She  owns  it  now.  I  only 
paid  the  taxes. 

Royce.    Why  didn't  you  tell  her  here? 

Blake.  Because  I  thought  you  had  her  cinched 
— that  she  had  sold  it  to  you  and  taken  the  coin. 
But  you've  given  the  snap  away.  Oh,  this  is  like 
getting  money  from  home!     (Turning  up  c.) 

Drury.  Don't  be  foolish,  Blake.  I'll  make  it 
worth  your  while.     I'll  give  you  a  bit  of  it. 

Royce.    No,  I'm  damned  if  you  do ! 

Drury.  You'll  do  what  I  say.  Come,  Blake, 
can't  we  compromise? 

Blake.  (Coming  to  desk)  No.  Compromise 
with  you  and  rob  her !  Do  you  think  you  can  buy  me 
to  do  up  the  woman  I  love?  I'm  not  one  of  your 
tools  that  you  can  get  to  do  your  dirty  work — line 
their  pockets  while  they  fill  yours !  You've  made 
me  sell  a  few  goods  that  weren't  all  wool  and  a 
yard  wide,  but  you  can't  make  me  a  common  thief ! 
Compromise,  you  damned  old  bandit  ?  To  hell  with 
your  compromise ! 

CURTAIN. 


JHE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         95 


ACT  IV. 

Scene  : — Same  as  Act  II.  One  hour  later.  Rise  of 
curtain  discloses  Blake's  room  with  the  sample 
tables  stripped  of  their  contents. 

DISCOVERED :  Blake  closing  and  locking  a 
sample  trunk. 

Julius  enters,  zvheeling  a  small  porter's  truck. 
Blake  helps  Jiim  put  trunk  on  the  truck. 
Gives  him  a  tip. 

Blake.  Now,  you  understand,  you  take  all  these 
sample  trunks  to  the  Widow  Stratton's  store ;  tell 
the  cashier  that  Mr.  Royce  will  take  charge  of 
them.     (Giving  coin) 

Julius.  (Wheeling  around  tozvards  door)  How 
about  yo'  personal  baggage? 

(Blake  crossing  to  r.  table.) 

Blake.  (By  fable)  Let  you  know  about  that 
later.  (He  looks  at  his  watch  nervously,  then 
crosses  to  zvindow,  front  of  table) 

(Julius  is  zvheeling  out  the  truck.) 

Blake.  Julius. 

Julius.  Yes,  sah? 

Blake.  Bring  me  a  bottle  of  beer  and  a  sand- 
wich. 

Julius.  Yes,  sah.  (Putting  dozvn  trunk)  What 
sorta  sandwich  you  prefer?    (Julius  is  c.) 

Blake.  Any  old  thing. 

Julius.  Yes^  sah,  that's  what  we  make  sand- 


96         THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

wiches  outa.  What's  yo'  preference  as  to  the 
fillin'  ? 

Blake.  (Looking  out  zvindow  r.)  Wonder 
where  Watts  is  ? 

Julius.  How'd  you  hke  a  nice  cannibal?  You 
know,  raw  meat  chopped  up  fine  ? 

Blake.     No — no 

Julius.    Lemme  suggest  a  Sapho. 

Blake,     (Coming  to  r.  c.  of  table)     A  what? 

Julius.  Mighty  temptin'  is  a  Sapho.  Its  con- 
sistency is  a  young  aig,  fried,  mos'  tenderly  re- 
posin'  on  a  juicy  slice  a  onion  of  Spanish  birth. 
Very  hot  stuff  is  a  Sapho. 

Blake.  (Furiously)  Say,  you  get  me  a  sand- 
wich. 

Julius.     (Starts)    Yes,  sir.     (Exits  with  trunk) 

(Blake  goes  over  to  windoiv,  then  turns  tozvard 
window.  Julius  is  at  door.  Watts  enters. 
They  each  try  to  get  out  of  the  other's  way.) 

Watts.     What's  the  idea?     (Coming  dozvn  l.) 

Blake.  (Coming  over  to  Watts)  Did  you 
find  her? 

Watts.    No. 

Blake,  (r.)  I  might  have  known  you'd  fall 
down.     (He  zvalks  azvay  disgustedly  upstage) 

Watts,  (l.)  I  like  that!  Me  burning  up  the 
boardwalk  to  oblige  you !    Lots  of  thanks  I  get. 

Blake,  (r.  turning  to  him)  Where  did  you 
go?     (Coming  down) 

Watts.    Depot — boarding-house — depot 

Blake.  (Going  upstage)  I  told  you  I'd  been 
there.     (Tozvards  Watts  and  then  up  c.) 

Watts.  Well,  I  thought  she  might  have  doubled 
on  the  trail.    Nothing  doing. 

Blake.  Where  can  she  be?  (Coming  dozvn- 
stage  to  him)     Where  have  you  been  all  this  time? 

Watts.    Standin'  round  street  corners  rubberin* 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.         97 

at  every  woman  in  sight.  Within  an  ace  of  being 
shoved  in  the  lockup  by  the  village  constable  for 
flirtin'.  Even  went  over  to  the  store,  thinking,  she 
might  have  gone  there  again.  Not  on  the  prem- 
ises. 

Blake.    Were  Royce  and  Drury  there? 

Watts.    No. 

Blake.     How  did  you  get  the  information? 

Watts.  Made  love  to  that  vinegary  old  dame, 
Royce's  cashier. 

Blake.  Is  that  the  way  you  fool  around?  Is 
that  all  you  think  about?  Even  in  a  time  like  this, 
isn't  any  skirt  immune?     (Crosses  to  front  of  table 

R.) 

Watts.  You  bet  .y/i^  is  !  (Blake  turns)  Only 
did  it  to  further  your  interests.  You  forget  that  I 
took  my  life  in  my  hands.  (Blake  moves  away 
to  R.)  She  was  a  tight- wad  as  far  as  news  was  con- 
cerned, but  after  a  few  broad-guage  compliments  she 
loosened  up. 

Blake.  Suppose  they  may  have  found  her? 
(Crossing  to  r.  front  of  table) 

Watts.  Do  you  think  Miss  Elliott  was  at  the 
boarding-house  when  you  called? 

Blake.  (Turning  to  Watts)  Crabb  thought 
she  had  gone  there,  but  it  wasn't  her  day  at  home 
— at  least  she  wasn't  receiving  Bob  Blake.  Suppose 
she's  sitting  there  having  a  talk  with  them  now. 

Watts.  What  difference  would  that  make? 
You  said  she  had  accepted  their  offer. 

Blake.  Yes,  but  when  I  left  home  to  locate 
her,  she  hadn't  committed  herself  for  keeps. 
(Pause)  She  hadn't  received  the  check  for  the 
five  thousand. 

Watts.  (Slozvly)  Oh,  I  see.  (Watts  looks 
at  Blake) 

Blake.  Drury  let  that  cat  out  of  the  bag. 
(Front  of  table)  If  she  could  only  be  found,  only 
persuaded  to  hang  on — now  that   I've  saved  her 


98         THE  TRAVELING  SALESI\IAN. 

property.  When  I  made  that  bkiff  I  didn't  suppose 
for  a  moment  that  anyone  could  disappear  off  the 
face  of  the  earth  in  a  jerkwater  town  of  this  size. 

Watts.  It  looks  as  though  they  had  you  beat. 
{Sympathetically) 

Blake.  (At  table,  turning)  Not  on  your  life! 
I've  still  a  chance  if  I  can  find  her,  and  I'd  give  a 
year's  salary  to  do  it. 

Watts.  That's  good — when  you  haven't  a  job 
in  sight. 

Blake.  That  doesn't  worry  me  ;  I  haven't  thought 
about  it.  (Pause)  I  can't  think  of  anything  but 
her. 

Watts.  Well,  you're  certainly  there  with  the 
love-at-first-sight  gag,  strong. 

Blake.  Love  at  first  sight  ?  Watts,  I  was  hit  by 
a  cyclone. 

Watts.  If  this  is  the  best  it  does  for  you,  and  I 
see  it  coming  my  way,  me  for  the  cellar ! 

Blake.  (Moving  over  to  window)  Talk's  cheap. 
Where  can  she  be  ? 

Watts.  (Coming  across  to  table  r.)  If  any 
woman  told  me  I  wasn't  on  the  level  it  would  detain 
me  for  a  moment.     (Sits  chair  back  of  table) 

Blake.  (Over  at  windozv)  She  did  put  the 
knife  in  and  turn  it  around.  (Turning  from 
zvindozv) 

Watts.  She  jumped  to  conclusions  mighty 
quickly. 

Blake.  (Comes  to  chair  r.  of  table)  You  can't 
blame  her.  When  you  frame  it  up  in  cold  blood, 
their  arguments  did  seem  reasonalDle.  She  didn't 
know  me ;  I  was  only  a  chance  acquaintance. 

Watts.  It  seemed  to  me  last  night  from  the  point 
of  an  unprejudiced  observer,  that  for  a  chance 
acquaintance  you  were  going  some. 

Blake.  You  should  have  heard  her  to-day ;  talk 
about  reading  the  riot  act !  But  I  wouldn't  care 
a  continental  about  that  if  I  could  only  find  her^ 


THE  TRAVELING  SALES^IAN.         99 

(Moves  across  stage  and  crosses  to  chair  l.) — see 
her — save  her!  To  think  she's  going  to  lose  by  a 
brace  game — it's  fierce. 

Watts.  (Is  seated)  Well,  you've  done  all  you 
can  ;  no  use  letting  this  get  on  your  digestion.  Come 
on,  Blake,  there  are  others. 

Blake,  (c.)  Oh,  don't  Wattsie,  don't.  (Turn- 
ing to  Watts) 

Watts.  I  only  meant  to  cheer  you  up.  I  hate  to 
see  you  like  this. 

Blake.  (Toivard  chair  l.  of  table)  You  don't 
think  I'm  stuck  on  feeling  like  this  ?  I'm  having  a 
devil  of  a  lovely  time  !     (Sitting  l.  of  table) 

Watts.    Last  night  you  were  at  concert  pitch. 

Blake.  This  minute  I'm  down  somewhere  below 
the  G  string.  (Pause)  Oh,  blow  the  happy  holiday 
season  !  A  man  gets  feeling  so  blue  and  lonely,  he's 
liable  to  catch  anything,  with  the  pores  of  his  heart 
all  open. 

Watts.  And  you  don't  deserve  it.  Bob ;  you've 
always  been  on  the  square  with  women. 

Blake.  Maybe  I  haven't.  Maybe  I'm  getting 
paid  for  something  I've  done  somewhere,  somehow. 
Gee,  but  it's  an  awful  price;  it's  so  hopeless — I 
can't  see  daylight  ahead — all  I  can  see  is  her,  look- 
ing at  me  with  hate  in  her  eyes.  Wattsie,  several 
times  in  my  life  I've  seemed  to  hit  the  jumping  ofT 
place.  Once  when  I  was  broke  with  others  depend- 
ing on  me,  and  me  the  only  thing  between  them  and 
misery — I  stood  on  the  brink  and  looked  over. 
Then,  when  my  mother  died — I  thought  I'd  gone 
the  limit.  But  this — this  being  in  love — is  Simon- 
pure  hell. 

Watts.  (After  pause)  I  know,  old  man,  I 
know. 

Blake.  (Looks  at  Watts — pointedly)  What  do 
you  think  of  me  sitting  here  drooling  like  a  love- 
sick idiot,  while  those  thieves  may  be  sitting  in  the 


100       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

boarding-house  robbing  her?  (Blake  goes  for  hat 
and  coat  on  table  by  c.  door) 

Watts.  (Rising,  putting  chair  up  and  moving  to 
R.)  Where  are  you  going?  What  are  you  going 
to  do? 

Blake.  (Stopping)  I'm  going  back  to  that 
boarding-house  and  I'm  going  to  see  Beth  Elliott, 
if  I  have  to  break  in  the  door  to  do  it. 

Watts.  Keep  your  clothes  on.  You  can't  do  that. 
It  would  be  a  lovely  finish  to  this  mess — you 
pinched  for  house-breaking. 

(Julius  knocks  and  enters  with  tray.) 

Julius.    Heah  yo'  refreshment,  sah. 
Blake.     (Up  c.)    Take  it  away — I  don't  want  it. 
I  haven't  time — (Moving  down  l.  a  little) 
Watts.    Hold  on,  now  ;  eat  something  before  you 

go- 

Blake.    No,  no,  I  couldn't. 
Watts.    Oh,  be  sensible. 

(Julius  brings  tray,  etc.,  to  table  r.,  standing  above 
chair  l.  of  table.) 

Blake.  Eat?  The  way  I  feel?  (Coming  doivn- 
stage  to  l.  c.) 

Watts.  An  empty  heart  will  fit  a  lot  more  com- 
fortably over  a  full  stomach.  Julius,  do  this  again 
for  me.     (Coming  doivn  r.  c.) 

Julius.  (Over  his  shoulder)  Yes,  sah — (Pause) 
Bring  it  right  up  soon  as  I  serve  some  moh  tea  to 
Mrs.  Babbit  an'  her  lady  fren'. 

Blake.    What  lady  friend? 

Julius.    Miss  Elliott : 

(Blake  and  Watts  start.) 
Blake.    Is  she  here? 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.        loi 

Julius.  Yes,  sah — (Pause) — right  across  the 
hall  with  Mrs.  Babbit. 

Blake.     (Starting  for  Watts)     Why  in  H ? 

Why  didn't  you  think  that  she  might  be  with  Mrs. 
Babbit? 

Watts.    Look  here,  I'm  not  the  goat !    Why  didn't 


you 


Blake.  (Moving  to  l.)  My  brain  hasn't  been 
working  overtime  the  last  twenty-four  hours. 

Watts.    No,  your  heart's  kept  you  busy. 

Blake.  (Starting  for  door  c.)  I'm  going  in 
there ! 

Watts.  Back  up,  Blake,  you've  got  it  all  your 
own  way.  (Blake  turns)  Now,  let's  see  how  the 
land  lays.  (To  Julius)  How  long's  Miss  Elliott 
been  with  IMrs.  Babbit? 

Julius.  (At  table,  pouring  beer  into  glass) 
About  an  hour. 

Blake.  (Coming  down  l.  c.)  Then  she  came 
straight  here ! 

Watts.    Have  you  seen  Miss  Elliott  ? 

Julius.    Yes,  sah. 

Blake.    How  does  she  seem  ? 

Julius.  Seems  mighty  po'rly.  (Pause)  'Pears 
to  me  they's  havin'  troublous  times  'cross  the  hall. 
(Coining  to  l.  side  of  table,  in  front  of  chair) 

Blake.    What  do  you  mean  ?    How  do  you  know  ? 

Julius.  I  knows  I'se  served  one  portion  a  tea  an' 
now  they's  ordered  moh. 

Watts.    What's  that  got  to  do  with  it? 

Julius.  Guess  you  ain't  acquainted  with  the  ways 
of  females? 

Watts.  (Smiling)  No,  we're  in  the  amateur 
class. 

Blake.    Cut  out  that  comedy.    Go  on,  Julius. 

Julius.  (Turns  to  Blake)  One  order  a  tea's 
usually  enough  for  a  woman's  ordinary  cryin'  spell, 
but  when  they  jes'  naturally  wallows  in  it,  you  want 
to  look  out  for  hysterics. 


102       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Watts.    Is  IMrs.  Babbit  crying? 

Julius.  Mrs.  Babbit  cryin'?  I'd  certainly  like 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  person  who  could  make  that 
woman  cry !  She's  fightin'  mad,  she  jest  sits  there 
a  rockin'  herself  to  death  an'  ejaculatin'  "  I  told  you 
so — 1  warnt  you  against  these  drummers — " 
(Blake  and  Watts  annoyed.  Turns  to  Blake) 
Miss  Elliott  jes'  moan  an'  wail,  like  to  cry  her  haid 
plumb  off.  Mrs.  Babbit  say  Miss  Elliott  sufferin' 
from  a  misery  in  the  haid.  Looks  to  Julius  like 
it  was  a  misery  in  de  heart !     (  Juliu  exits) 

Watts.  Poor  kid!  (Blake  starts  to  follow 
Julius  to  c.  door)    Are  you  clean  batty? 

Blake.    I  tell  you  I'm  going  in  there. 

Watts.    Do  you  want  to  crab  everything? 

Blake.    How? 

Watts.  Don't  be  a  chump.  You  can't  force 
your  way  into  that  room.  You  haven't  any  warrant 
to  serve.  You're  no  sheriff  ;  Miss  Elliott  has  refused 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  you ;  you  wouldn't  have 
any  better  luck  with  Mrs.  Babbit ;  she's  heard  Beth's 
story ;  she  wouldn't  even  allow  you  to  come  in,  let 
alone  listen  to  you. 

Blake.  (Comng  dozvn  toward  Watts)  If 
that's  the  best  you  can  do  in  the  way  of  advice — on 
your  way.  She'll  have  to  listen  to  me.  (Going  up  c. 
a  little)  I've  a  card  up  my  sleeve.  (Starting  up  to 
door) 

Watts,  (r.  c.)  Don't  play  it  too  soon.  Let  me 
go  and  persuade  her  to  see  you. 

Blake.  (Coming  tozvard  him)  No,  do  you 
think  I've  lost  my  nerve?  I  know  what  I'm  doing. 
(Pause)  I  may  not  know  all  about  women,  but 
that  crying  spell  looks  to  me  as  though  a  thaw  had 
set  in  and  the  ice  was  moving.     (Moving  l.) 

Watts.  (After  laugh)  For  Heaven's  sake,  sit 
tight — (Going  little  to  l.  by  chair  l.  of  table)  just 
a  moment,  and  let  me  go.  (He  goes  down  to  table) 
I'm  not  exactly  pining  for  the  job.    Blessed  are  the 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.        103 

peacemakers — but  for  you,  Bob,  I'm  willing  to  get 
mine. 

(Blake  stops  Watts  zvho   has  started  upstage. 
Julius  enters.) 

Julius.  (Coming  to  c.)  Excuse  me,  Mistah 
Blake,  but  I  wants  to  ask  you  about  them  trunks. 

Blake.    What  about  them? 

Julius.  Mr.  Royce  says  he  don't  want  them  over 
to  the  store  ;  he  wants  'em  sent  to  the  depot.  Whose 
orders  is  I  am  to  obey  ? 

Blake.  Royce?  Where  is  he?  {Turning  tozvard 
Julius) 

Julius.    He's  downstairs. 

Blake  and  Watts.  Downstairs?  Watts  sits 
chair  l.  of  table) 

Julius,  (c.)  Yes,  sah,  with  that  millionaire 
gentleman  from  Indiamanopolis. 

Blake.    How  long  have  they  been  here? 

Julius.  Just  come.  I'm  takin'  their  cards  up  to 
Miss  Elliott.  {He  shozvs  cards  on  tray  in  right 
hand) 

Blake.  What  luck  !  {He  takes  them  off  the  tray, 
goes  into  his  pocket)  Julius,  there's  a  ten-dollar 
note  for  you  if  you'll  forget  to  deliver  those  cards. 

Julius.    What? 

Blake.  You  give  me  those  cards ;  you  take  this 
ten-dollar  bill  and  chase  yourself ! 

Julius.  {Starts  to  door  c,  then  turns)  Where 
am  I  to  go  to  ? 

Blake.  Oh,  I  don't  care.  {After  laugh)  Go  up 
in  the  attic  and  play  dead. 

Julius.  {Turning  from  Blake  to  go  up)  But 
they  may  suspect  collision  between  us. 

Blake.    How  ? 

Julius.    They  asked  me  if  you  was  here? 

Blake.    What  did  you  say  ? 

Julius.    I  say  yes,  sah. 


104       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 
(Watts  shakes  head.) 

Blake.  That's  bad.  (Pause)  Oh,  Watts,  you 
go  downstairs 

Watts.     (Rising)    What'll  I  do? 

Blake.  Fall  over  them  accidentally,  tell  them 
I've  gone  out,  button-hole  'em.  I  don't  care  what 
you  do,  but  keep  them  there. 

Watts.  Don't  you  worry ;  it's  great  I'm  in  train- 
ing! Come  on,  you.  (He  makes  a  fezv  passes  at 
Julius,  who  ducks.  Watts  rushes  out,  Blake 
pushing  Julius  out  after  him) 

Blake.  The  attic  for  yours !  (Julius  exits. 
Blake  pulls  himself  together) 

Blake.  It's  up  to  you.  Bob,  now,  for  a  little 
quick  stuff.  (Blake  goes  across  the  hall  and  he 
knocks  at  the  door.  Pause.  He  knocks  again 
violently.  Mrs.  Babbit  comes  to  the  door.  Blake 
grasps  her  zvrist  and  pulls  her  across  the  hall  into  his 
room  zvell  donni-stage) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    Are  you  trying  to  kidnap  me  ? 

Blake.     (Closes  the  door)     I  want  to  see  you. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Looks  like  you  wanted  to  kill  me. 
Open  that  door. 

Blake.  I've  got  to  talk  to  you.  (Coining  to  her) 
and  talk  hard.  (She  looks  at  him)  Oh,  not  about 
myself :  about  her — Beth  ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You  dare  to  take  her  name  in 
vain  after  what  you've  done  to  my  poor  lamb? 
Traitor!     (Going  dozvn  r.  front  of  table) 

Blake.     (Interrupting)     Go  slow. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Don't  hector  me,  young  fellow ! 
Let  me  outa  this.     (Moving  little  tozvards  Blake) 

Blake.  You've  got  to  hear  me:  you'd  do  any- 
thing for  Beth,  wouldn't  you? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Yes,  but  my  God,  I  draw  the  line 
at  bein'  compromised  !    Open  that  door, 

Blake.  Don't  worry,  you're  old  enough  to  be  my 
mother!     (Coming  dozvn  l.) 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.        105 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Going  over  to  Blake)  How 
dare  you  insult  my  gray  hairs  ? 

Blake.    Keep  your  shirt — ! 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Looks  shocked — starts  for  him) 
Sir! 

Blake.  (Coming  over  to  table  l.)  Your  shirt- 
waist on. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You're  endangering  my  good 
name !  The  least  you  can  do  is  respect  my  apparel. 
(Going  r.  in  front  of  table) 

Blake.     (Coming  c.)     We  mustn't  quarrel. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Turning  on  him)  Who  began 
it?  Do  you  suppose  for  one  moment  any  man  kin 
drag  me  in  by  the  hair  a  my  head  willy-nilly  and 
expect  me  to  smile  and  look  pleasant ! 

Blake.  My  work  may  be  a  little  rough  but  I  mean 
well.    Listen  to  me — (Phone  rings) 

Mrs.  Babbit.    I've  heard  all  I  want  to. 

Blake.  But  not  all  you're  going  to.  (Going  to 
phone)  Hello!  What?  yes,  Watts— (Fan j-(?)  No, 
it  isn't  settled  yet.  (Pause)  You  can't  hold  them 
much  longer.  (Pause)  Royce  seems  suspicious. 
(Pause)  He's  talking  to  the  hotel  clerk.  Don't  let 
him  get  by  with  anything.  Keep  on  the  job — (At 
phone)  You  see  Royce  and  Drury  are  getting  rest- 
less. I'm  desperate.  (Coming  over  quickly  to  ]\Irs. 
Babbit) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Gracious  powers  and  I'm  alone! 
(She  falls  back  against  table) 

Blake.  I  don't  want  to  frighten  you,  but  I  must 
see  Beth  Elliott  before  they  do. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  And  you  think  to  use  me  as  a  go- 
between !  (Going  up  to  him)  Young  man,  you've 
picked  the  wrong  party :  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with 
you.  I've  heard  Beth's  story  and  I  believe  it. 
(Turning  away) 

Blake.  You  mean  you've  heard  Royce's  yarn? 
Well,  it's  a  lie  from  beginning  to  end.  Now  you're 
going  to  hear  the  truth. 


io6       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  The  truth?  You  expect  me  to  be- 
lieve you,  a  drummer  ?    (Moving  r.) 

Blake.  There  you  go  with  that  drummer  thing 
again !  We  may  sandbag  people  into  buying  goods, 
but  we're  not  gold  brick  boys.  I  didn't  expect  that 
line  of  talk  from  you ;  I  thought  a  woman  of  the 
world  like  you — would  want  to  hear  both  sides  of 
the  case,  not  let  yourself  be  hurried  into  a  snap 
judgment. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Well?  (Sitting  dozvn  chair  l.  of 
table  R.)    What  you  gotta  say  for  yourself  ? 

Blake.  Put  anything  you  may  think  of  me  out 
of  your  mind.  Leave  it  free  to  consider  without 
prejudice  several  points  in  the  deal  I  know  you've 
overlooked ;  for  a  woman  with  your  brains  wouldn't 
take  stock  in  the  first  story  she  heard ;  your  judg- 
ments have  been  switched  by  your  love  for  Beth. 
You  say  you  believe  her  story.  (She  turns) 
You  must  admit  she's  telling  you — (She  turns  on 
him)  oh,  in  all  good  faith — Royce's  side  of  the  case. 
Have  you  always  thought  Ro;    e  was  on  the  level? 

Mrs.  Babbit.     (Pausing)    Well,  no,  I  haven't. 

Blake.  Do  you  think  Roy.^  the  kind  of  man 
likely  to  do  anything  for  nothing  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You  bet  he  isn't.  Why,  he's  stole 
the  Widow  Stratton  blind. 

Blake.  Exactly,  that's  what  he'?  trying  to  do 
with  Beth.  If  he's  giving  her  $5,000  for  her  land, 
don't  you  know  that  it's  worth  more  than  that  to 
him? 

Mrs.  Babbit.     (Pause)     I  never  thought  o'  that. 

Blake.  Stop  and  think  a  minute.  (Pause)  How 
would  I,  a  stranger  to  Grand  Crossing,  who  heard 
for  the  first  time  yesterday  about  Miss  Elliott's 
property,  have  known  what  to  do  and  how  to  get  it, 
if  someone  hadn't  given  the  snap  away? 

Mrs.  Babbit.     (Turning)     You  mean? 

Blake.  I  mean  that  Royce  sat  in  our  poker  game 
last  night  and  began  hitting  it  up  until  he  got  to  the 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.        107 

sta-e  where  a  drunken  man  sees  big  and  talks  large 
He^brlo^ged  about  his  inside  information  that  Cobb 
had  verified,  and  blew  to  us  his  httle  scheme  to  rob 

^  Mrs.   Babbit.     I  wish't   I'd  been  there;  I'd  a 
ma^s^a^c^eed  him.^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^  ,^^  ^^ 


I  got  him  drunk,  jumped  into  his  sleigh-— 
Mrs.  Babbit.     {Interrupting)    His  sleigh? 
Blakf      (Gets  deed  from  pocket)     Why,  yes— 
CLAKL.      vy.  ,   •,!„    — A  T  U\l'(-A  fn  the  sale. 


he  haTit  waiting  outside,  and  I  hiked  to  the  sale 
Mrs.  Babbit.^  (Pause)     Ah,  but  you  did  what 

"^'BlAxl'^'Tdidn'^buy  her  land-(Mojm,  o.erto 
hef  Pause)  I  only  paid  her  taxes.  (He  shows  her 
the  receipt)     There  is  the  receipt. 

Mrs   Babbit.     (Pause-after  looking  at  receipt) 
Good  heavens,  man,  why  didn't  you  tell  her? 

Blake  I  didn't  have  the  chance— I  didn  t  clare 
Dor^t  vou  understand  when  I  dropped  to  the  fact 
{hat  sh^ad  accepted  their  offer  I  couldn't  tell  her 
before  them  that  I  had  only  paid  her  taxes.  If  they 
h'd  known  she  owned  the  land,  they  would  have 
gh^n  her  the  check  for  $5,000  then  and  there,  and 
the  deal  would  have  been  closed. 

ATrs  Bxbbit.    I  see  it  all  now.  . 

Bt  .KE     I  was  running  a  bluiT-coiikln  t  tip  my 
hand-I  didn't  figure  that  she  wouldn't  believe  that 

'  M^s'^ABBiT^'T  might  a  knowned  there  was  a 
nigger  in  the  wood-pilll     (Rising)     What's  to  be 

done  now?    (Facing  htm)  cu,  u^<;n't  thit 

Blake.     There's  still  a  chance.     She  hasn  t  that 

check  and  she  must  be  prevented  from  taking  it. 

"^  mTs'bUTt'  Help  you,  young  man,  my  blood's 
boilin' !  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  ( Comes  over 
to  him) 


io8       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

Blake.  Go  to  her,  give  her  this  receipt  and  tell 
her  to  hano-  on  Hke  erim  death. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Why  don't  you  give  it  to  her 
yourself,     {(jiving  Blake  deed) 

Blake.  She'll  listen  to  you ;  she  might  put  up  an 
argument  with  me.  Royce  and  Drury  will  be  de- 
livering those  cards  in  person  if  we  don't  hurry.  We 
mustn't  waste  time  making  gallery  plays.  Now, 
hustle !  (Julius  knocks  on  door.  Blake  takes  Mrs. 
Babbit  to  door  c.) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  Heavens — my  reputation's  ruint! 
{She  exits  quickly) 

(Julius  enters.) 

Blake.  {Goes  down  l.)  What  do  you  want? 
Didn't  I  tell  you  to  stay  dead  ? 

Julius.  Yes,  boss,  but  ain't  it  time  for  me  to  be 
resurrected  ? 

Blake.     No — back  to  the  attic. 

Julius.     Why,  they's  gone. 

Blake.    What? 

Julius.     Sure ;  I  seed  from  a  window  upstairs. 

Blake.    Where's  Watts? 

Julius.    Mr.  Watts  went  with  'em ! 

Blake.  Good  boy,  Watts.  {Going  over  to 
window)  He's  steered  them  ofif.  That's  all  right. 
You're  resurrected. 

Julius.    What  about  that  clerk  in  the  office? 

Blake.  I'll  fix  him.  (Julius  goes.  Blake 
crosses  to  windotv,  looks  out,  shakes  his  fist.  After 
Julius'  exit)     I've  beaten  you! 

•(Beth  enters  hurriedly,  holding  receipt  in  hand, 
followed  by  Mrs.  Babbit,  zvho  crosses  down 
back  of  table  r.) 

Beth,  (c.)  Oh,  Mr.  Blake,  why  didn't  you  tell 
me  what  you  had  done  ?    Why  did  you  let  me  accuse 


THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN.        109 

you  ?  Why  did  you  let  me  say  those  things  to  you  ? 
Things  I  can  never  forget. 

Blake.  They  had  you  rattled.  {Crossing  to 
Beth)  You  didn't  know  what  you  were  saying. 
You  thought  I  had  robbed  you  of  your  land. 

Beth.  Ah,  no,  it  wasn't  that  I  thought  you  had 
robbed  me  of  my  land,  but  of  my  faith  in  you.  How 
can  you  forgive  me  ? 

Blake.     {Starts  to  embrace  her)     That's  easy. 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {From  back  of  tabic)  You 
people  got  lots  a  time  for  that — there's  twenty-four 
hours  to  every  day,  but  these  few  minutes  are 
precious.    How's  she  goin'  to  get  out  a  this  ? 

Blake.    That's  all  right. 

Beth.  But  I've  said  I'll  sell.  I've  given  my  word 
of  honor. 

Blake.  You're  not  going  to  split  hairs  about 
your  word  of  honor  in  dealing  with  a  couple  of 
sharps  who  have  no  honor. 

Beth.  But  must  I  stoop  to  their  level  and  give 
them  the  right  to  despise  me  as  I  despise  them  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  You  gotta  fight  trickery  with 
trickery.     {From  back  of  table) 

Blake.    There  is  no  dishonor  in  that. 

Beth.  {Taking  a  step  to  Blake)  Well,  I  place 
myself  in  your  hands.    What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ? 

Blake.    Refuse  to  take  that  check. 

Beth.    But  I've  accepted  it. 

Mrs.  Babbit  and  Blake.     {Together)    W^ha-at! 

Beth.  Yes.  Mr.  Royce — just  a  few  moments 
ago — v;hile  Mrs.  Babbit  was  in  here,  sent  me  the 
check  by  the  clerk.     I  took  it  and  signed  a  receipt. 

Blake.  That's  why  they  went  away !  {Pause) 
They've  beaten  us.     (Blake  sits  l.  of  tabic) 

Beth.  Oh,  what  does  it  matter?  Money  doesn't 
covmt.  (Beth  goes  back  of  Blake,  then  drops  to 
R.  of  table  above  chair) 

Mrs.  Babbit.  {Coming  down  l.  and  c.)  That's 
what  happens  to  an  unprotected  female!     If  you'd 


no       THE  TRAVELING  SALESMAN. 

had  some  man  to  take  care  of  you — a  husband— 
they  could  a  whistled  for  their  land. 

Blake.    What  do  you  mean  ? 

Mrs.  Babbit.  (Coining  over  to  Blake  and 
Beth)  Check  or  no  check,  no  married  woman  in 
this  State  can  execute  a  deed  without  her  husband's 
signature. 

Blake.  (To  Beth)  You  haven't  given  them  a 
deed  yet? 

Beth.  (Crossing  to  front  of  table)  No — (Look- 
ing out  of  windozu) 

Blake.  Bully  for  you,  sister  !  (He  jumps  up  and 
kisses  Mrs.  Babbit — takes  her  up  to  door.  She 
exits)    Well,  it's  all  right.     (Coming  down  l.) 

Beth.     (Moving  tozvards  c.)     But  I  don't  see. 

Blake,  (c.  and  down)  You  heard  Sister  Babbit ? 
All  you  have  to  have  is  a  husband. 

Beth.    But  I  haven't  one. 

Blake.  We  can  soon  fix  that.  Are  you  game? 
(Coming  to  her) 

Beth.  (Going  towards  Blake)  Oh,  yes,  I'm 
game. 

(Blake  goes  toward  her,  is  about  to  take  her  in  his 
arms,  when  he  stops  and  rushes  to  telephone.) 

Blake.  Hello — hello — send  up  one  minister  and 
two  witnesses,  quick !    (Takes  Beth  in  his  arms) 

CURTAIN. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


REC'P  i-"* 


fe^^ 


49£i 


29%|r  n 


F;'?  --n  LP 


W;i2l961 


MAY     61969 


REC'D  LD 


AUG  15 '69 -3  PH 


REC'D  LD    JAN 


1171-2AM2  7 


LD  21A-50ni-12,'60 
(B6221sl0)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


I3^11I}Z 


